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JUDGE BULLION 


THE HELLER PUBLISHING CO. 

32 - 34 WESLEY BLOCK, COLUMBUS, OHIO 




r 


Victims of Marriage 


“All things the worst are corruptions from things originally de- 
signed as the best.'’ 


BV 



THE HELLER PUBLISHING CO. 
52-34 WESLEY BLOCK, COLUMBUS, OHIO 

1890 


COPYRIGHT 1889, BY LEVI D. HELLER. 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



(V4>*{vyya1''.' . f 0 * 




Press of Hann & Adair, 

108 North High Street. 

Columbus, Ohio. 













A Personal Statement, 


j^EARLY a year ago I offered the manuscript of the 
following pages to a prominent publishing house in 
the East — where the wise men are still presumed to 
dwell — for publication. Some two months thereafter it 
was returned to me with a letter containing, among other 
things, this statement, “ The report is that, though it is 
fairly interesting, and written with a good deal of rhetor- 
ical power, it is scarcely up to publication standard.’’ 

Not long after that, this same publishing house made 
an assignment. The author of a rejected manuscript may 
not be an impartial judge, yet he has a right to conclude 
that the public did not indorse the “ publication standard ” 
of that house. 

A physician, friendly to me, read the manuscript, or 
rather was in at the bornin’ of this child of my intellect. 
With some slight changes, which he suggested, he thought 
it would be a goodly man-child. 

Next, an author and poet, of no mean ability, kindly 
undertook to read it He said there were things in it that 
were unworthy of me, but made that saying quite easy to 
swallow by accompanying it with a good allowance of 
taffy in the following, “The whole book gives evidence of a 


much keener intellect than I had given you credit with 
possessing. ” 

It was then submitted to a newspaper editor and book 
reviewer. While he seemed to appreciate the efforts of 
the author he did not place a very high estimate on the 
results. He thought the title was not a suitable one for a 
novel. He suggested, “A Rusty Ring.” He salved over 
his criticism with this doubtful compliment, “People want 
story and not philosophy.” 

A Drummer was the next to read. After he had fin- 
ished he kindly wrote me his estimate of what I had writ- 
ten in the following frank and candid words: “Your effort 
is generally good, and I have read many worse books that 
were popular. I honestly think, with some slight changes 
which you will be able to make, that it will sell ( ?) (the 
interrogation point is mine), and what is more, do good.” 

A talented young lady said it was decidedly “Frenchy,” 
and very fascinating, yet it was not one of the books that 
she could not stay away from. 

The pesky thing has followed me from ocean to ocean, 
and, like Banquo’s ghost, would never down. To get well 
rid of it I have placed it in the hands of my publishers 
to do as they may think for the best. With it, goes this 
parting wish, to which all others are as nothing, that no 
one who reads will find in it any thought or sentiment 
that can be used to justify a wrongful act or a wicked 
purpose. 

The Author. 

Columbus, Ohio, 

April 1, 1890. 


PART I 


CHAPTER I 

If circumstances could draw aside the curtains that darken the back- 
ground and allow the “invisible events” to “make mouths” at the char- 
acters in the foreground, what sorry figures these incontrovertible truth- 
tellers would ofttimes cut. 

three o’clock in the afternoon when Dr. Arling- 
entered the private office of John Ashton, at- 
torney-at-law. It was but a few minutes later when the 
occupants of the general office were startled with the noise 
of loud talking and the sound of fierce struggling as of men 
engaged in mortal combat. In another instant there was a 
cry of murder and the sound as of something falling heavily 
to the floor. 

Before any one could reach the door to the private office, 
Mr. Ashton, with face as pale as death, rushed into the 
general office and hurried toward the door at the main 
entrance. As he ran he cried out in loud and excited tones 
“Stop that man in the hall.’’ “Go to the front entrance. 
Come with me, some one, for God’s sake, there has been a 
murder committed in my office.’’ 

He passed out the side door of the general office. A 



6 VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 

man coming through the hallway accompanied him to the 
rear entrance. To this man he related what had happened. 
They saw no one in the halls or passage-way of the building. 

Ashton continued his appeals for help until he reached 
the ground. A policeman, attracted by his repeated cries, 
met him as he reached the street. To the officer’s inquiry, 
“ What’s the matter?” Ashton replied, “ Matter enough! ” 

“Why are you so excited?” 

“ Did you see a man coming out of this building?” 

“ When?” 

“Just now.” 

“No, sir.” 

“ How long have you been here? ” 

“ Fully ten minutes.” 

“And have seen no one coming out here?” 

“ I have seen no one coming or going in this hallway 
or main entrance, except the man whose horse is hitched at 
the curb. He went up this way and has not come down.’’ 

“That was Dr. 'Arlington, ” said Ashton, “and he is 
now in my private office a dead man, I fear.” 

A crowd had gathered at the main office and com- 
pletely filled it. It was with difficulty that Ashton and the 
policeman elbowed their way to the scene of the tragedy. 

They found Dr. Arlington lying on his right side, his 
head resting on his right arm, which had been lifted above 
his head in the act of falling, or had been raised to ward off 
the blow that caused his death. 

There was a gaping wound in the neck, extending from 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


7 


the “Adam’s apple” in front beyond the main carotid 
artery on the left side of the neck. The artery had been 
completely severed. The left hand clasped the handle of a 
dagger that had been thrust into the left breast below the 
heart. 

Ashton said he was alone in his private office when 
Dr. Arlington came in; that he had invited him to a seat 
after the usual formality of hand shaking, and as the Doctor 
was about to sit, a man wearing a black mask so as to en- 
tirely conceal his identity, sprang from behind an alcove in 
the room and rushed upon the Doctor. The Doctor sprang 
to his feet; as he did so the man caught him by the whiskers 
and struck at him with the dagger, inflicting the wound in 
the neck. . 

Ashton said he then sprang at the man in the mask 
and partially succeeded in separating them, when the mur- 
derer eluded his grasp and plunged the dagger into the 
Doctor’s body and started for the side door. The Doctor 
in falling had separated Ashton from the man in the mask, 
who at once opened the door and passed out and closed it 
before Ashton could reach him. Ashton followed closely 
but not in time to prevent the door from closing. As he 
caught hold of the knob he placed his other hand on the 
night latch and tried to open the door. The door did not 
open ; he gave it another trial but did not succeed. Then, 
in his excitement, he ran to the general office and gave the 
alarm. 

The door at which Ashton said the murderer had made 


8 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


his escape was then examined by the officer and found to be 
locked as Ashton had said, but not by the night latch from the 
inside; that was still unlocked, and the bolt of the lock be- 
low was the one that secured the door. 

This fact changed the appearance of all the circum- 
stances. Ashton was motionless and dumb while the officer 
was searching for the key, only to be completely overcome 
when it was found on the floor not three feet from the 
door. 

A critical condition indeed. A man found dead in your 
private office, no one present at the time of your outcry but 
the murdered man and yourself, so far as can be ascertained 
from the appearance of the surroundings, the door locked 
from within and the key found lying- upon the flpor of the 
room. Here is incontrovertible proof that the door was 
locked from the inside prior to the time the act was com- 
mitted. 

The place was cleared at once by the officer, that he 
might make further search for the murderer if he still 
secreted himself in the several alcoves in the room or among 
the book-cases. It was but the work of a moment for the 
officer to satisfy himself that no one was in hiding, and 
that Ashton was the only person in the room with the mur- 
dered man at the time the act was done. 

Ashton was appalled at this turn of affairs. He was at 
a loss to know what to do. He could give no account of the 
matter other than that he had already related. That was 
now so unsatisfactory to the mind of the officer that there was 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


9 


but one course open which he felt justified in pursuing, and 
that was to cause Ashton’s arrest. This he did at once, 

Ashton had dropped into a chair and was staring 
vacantly around the room. The officer approached him and 
said: “Mr. Ashton, it becomes my duty to put you under 
arrest.” 

“For what?” said Ashton. 

“ For taking the life of this man who lies here in your 
private office.’’ 

“You are unreasonable,” said Ashton. “I told you I 
did not do the act.’’ ' 

“ As a lawyer, Mr. Ashton, I should think you ought 
to see that the unreasonable comes from you rather than 
me,” the officer replied. 

‘ ‘ But I tell you that Dr. Arlington was my friend. 
What possible motive could I have in killing him?” queried 
Ashton. 

“We will leave that part of the matter to be settled 
elsewhere,” said the officer. “ You are under arrest.” 

Ashton bowed his head in submission and sat motion- 
less. The officer placed his hand on the prisoner’s shoulder 
and said, “You will come with me.” 

“With you, where to?” said Ashton. 

“To jail, sir, of course, where do you suppose?” was 
the almost sullen reply. 

“ Have the proper steps been taken to apprehend the 
guilty man?” asked Ashton. 


10 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


With a half quizzical and half disdainful look the 
officer replied, “ I think they have, sir.” 

The officer told him that the facts had been com- 
municated to police headquarters, and that every avenue 
of escape was being carefully guarded. This seemed to 
calm Ashton’s fears, and he asked the officer to call the 
coroner that an examination might be make at once and 
relieve him from the suspicions that the circumstances at- 
tached to him. 

Ashton was at this time one of the leading members of 
the bar, and the strong man of. the law firm of Bullion, 
Ashton & Bullion. Out of consideration for his high stand- 
ing the officer complied with his request and soon had the 
coroner in the presence of the dead body of Dr. Arlington. 
A jury was soon impanneled from among the by standers 
and the post-mortem began. 

Fear and dread were pictured on the face of every one 
present when the coroner arose to swear the jury. The 
word had gone out that the key to the private office had 
been found on the inside of the room, and that the circum- 
stances pointed to Ashton as the guilty man. 

Every one was disposed to take as charitable a view of 
the case as the circumstances would admit, and suspended 
judgment until the facts would point in some other direction. 
But to the amazement of all, the facts did not point in some 
other direction, for, no sooner had the examination begun 
than every circumstance declared Ashton’s guilt. 

The officer in the most delicate manner possible, asked 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


11 


Ashton if he wish to await the result of the coroner’s ex- 
amination, or would he consent to go to the city prison at 
once. 

“ Go to the city prison,” said Ashton. “Why do you 
ask me to go to prison?” 

“I have informed you,” replied the officer, “that you 
are under arrest for the killing of Dr. Arlington, and it is 
my duty to see that you are taken into the custody of the 
law.” 

“But I have told you,” said Ashton, “that I did not 
harm one hair of Dr. Arlington’s head.” 

“ Well, what if you did?” was the officer’s retort. 

“You astonish me, sir,” replied Ashton. “You are 
the first man to ever intimate that I would make a statement 
that was not strictly true.” 

“That might be accounted for easily, Mr. Ashton,” 
said the officer. 

“I do not understand you, sir,” said Ashton. 

“You have never been charged with murder before,” 
said the officer. 

“ Who dares charge me with murder now?” 

“If you care to wait for the conclusion of the coroner’s 
inquest you may be able to answer that question yourself, 
Mr. Ashton.” 

“ If there is no objection on the part of the coroner and 
the jury I would like to remain until this examination is 
concluded,” said Ashton. 


12 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“I have none,” said the coroner, “and I think lean 
answer for the gentlemen composing this jury.” 

Ashton bowed in grateful acknowledgment, and the 
coroner went on. 

The first thing the coroner did was to raise the left 
arm of the dead man and seek for the pulse. Life was 
extinct. 

In his death struggle, Dr. Arlington had grasped the 
handle of the dagger and partially drew it from the wound 
in his breast. His hand in death covered the handle of 
the knife. When the coroner raised the hand and 
placed the arm by the dead man’s side he was startled with 
the sight of the name on the handle of the knife. Without 
removing the knife from the body he called each of the 
jurymen to examine the handle. When all of them had 
made a careful examination he inquired if they were satis- 
fied as to what inscription was on the knife handle. 

There was a unanimous response in the affirmative. 
“Then I will remove it from the body.” 

“Gentlemen,” said the coroner, “you have examined 
the handle of this dagger, are you prepared to say what 
you saw there? ” 

“We are,” was the unanimous response. 

“Then you may state what it was.” 

“The name of John Ashton,” said the foreman. 

“Gentlemen, what say you all?” 

“So say we all.” 

Ashton covered his face with his hands and uttered a 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


13 


stifled and suppressed moan. All eyes were turned toward 
him. He raised his head, folding his arms across his breast. 

He looked appealingly at the coroner and the officer, 
and then his eyes swept quickly over the faces of every one 
in the room. He did not see the first look of sympathy 
or pity in the face of one of the entire number. He thought 
it might be a mistake. How could such a thing happen ? 
Were they not mistaken? He was the first to speak. 

“Mr. Coroner, I have always considered you a friend 
of mine.’’ 

“ I have always taken pride in so considering you, Mr. 
Ashton.” 

Extending his hand, Ashton said, “ let me see that 
dagger, or tell me that you are all mistaken.” 

“No one would be happier than I,” said the coroner, 
“to tell you that Mr. Ashton, if it were true, but as you 
request it, look and examine for yourself.” 

Ashton took the dagger from the trembling hand of 
the coroner. He could not believe his own eyes. He 
spelled it out in full. And then, as if in a dream, said, 
“J-o-h-n, A-s-h-t-o-n.’’ He drew his hand across his eyes 
and looked again. His awe-struck gaze was painful to 
behold. But the words were there and they would not down. 

He returned the dagger to the coroner. There was a 
far away look in his eyes as he began to talk. He did not 
address his words to any one in particular. It was the outer 
senses of the lawyer communicating with the inner con- 
sciousness of the man. 


14 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“I am the victim of a plot, a fiendish plot. Who is 
the villain that has planned and executed this murder?” 
Then looking about him as if waking from a dream, he 
said, “ I demand an investigation.” 

“ Be calm,” said the officer, “ the investigation is com- 
ing fast enough,” 

“ It is not within the scope of my authority to examine 
you, would you have any objections to my looking through 
your private desk for the scabbard to this dagger? ” 

“Gladly sir,” said Ashton, “gladly,” and handed him 
the key. 

The desk was gone through with in a very careful 
manner without any indications of scabbard until the bottom 
drawer was reached and there in the back end of the drawer 
was found the object of search, carefully done up in tissue 
paper. It also had engraved on the side the name of John 
Ashton. 

This was but the beginning of surprises for poor Ashton. 
The next link in the chain was still more surprising than the 
first, if that were possible. A crumpled and crushed letter 
was tightly gripped in the right hand of the dead man. Its 
contents came like a flash of lightning out of a clear sky. 
It was in Ashton’s own hand-writing. Written on his pri- 
vate letter-head. Signed by him and dated the same day at 
eleven o’clock in the morning and read as follows: 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


15 


“ Dear Doctor : 

“ Kindly call at my private office this afternoon at three 
sharp. Don’t fail. Business important to both of us.’’ 

“Truly your friend, 

11a. m.-10-10-’8 — . “ John Ashton.’’ 

Holding the crushed and crumpled sheet near enough 
for Ashton to see to read, the coroner said: “ Is that your 
letter-head?” 

“ It looks as though it might be,” said Ashton. “You 
can compare it with the paper in my desk.’’ It was found 
on camparison to be the same in every particular. 

“Do you recognize it as being the same?” asked the 
coroner of Ashton. 

“It is in all respects similar,” said Ashton, “but where 
it came from I am unable to tell.” 

“Will you examine this signature,” said the coroner, 
“and tell this jury whether it is your hand-writing?’’ 

“I think I had better consult counsel,” said Ashton, 
“before I go further in this matter.’’ 

This was rather an unexpected reply, and roused the 
suspicions of the coroner. He drew himself up to his full 
height, and with more than wonted imperiousness thus ad- 
dressed Ashton: “I don’t think, Mr. Ashton, that a law- 
yer of your reputation and ability need consult another lawyer 
before saying that he did or did not write his name.” Fold- 
ing down the contents of the letter the coroner held the 
paper near enough for Ashton to see to read. “What do 
you say, Mr. Ashton?” 


16 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Ashton was hurt. “ I should say,” said he, “ that was 
not a proper way to inquire of a witness as to his knowledge 
of even his own signature.’’ 

“I should think,” said the coroner rather sarcastically, 
“ that when your own life is at stake that you would forget 
to quibble.” 

“You seem to forget, Mr. Coroner, that if your life was 
at stake that you would feel that you had a right to quibble 
for it.” 

“Iam not a lawyer, Mr. Ashton, and there is the dif- 
ference between you and me; we will not quibble.’’ 

“ Pardon me, Mr. Coroner, I have no wish to quibble; 
I am only exercising my right. If you will stop to consider, 
I think you will agree with me that you would not like, 
under such circumstances, to hazard an opinion without first 
having s6en the contents of the letter. ’’ 

“ If I was innocent I do not think it would make much 
difference to me whether I saw the contents of the letter,” 
said the coroner. A sickly smile lighted up the faces of one 
or two of the jury. The coroner’s reply was at the lawyer’s 
expense, and the lawyer is always fair game for the laughers. 

“As you do not see fit to express an opinion,” said the 
coroner, “ I will read this letter, then you can probably say 
whether you did or did not write it. How does that strike 
you, Mr. Ashton?” 

“ I am at your mercy, Mr. Corpner, you will do as yoi\ 
see fit, I presume.” 

“ I will do my duty,’’ said the coroner savagely. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


17 


Ashton bowed his head and was silent. The coroner 
read the letter with a great deal of deliberation. When he 
had finished reading he turned to Ashton and said, “ Now 
do you think you dare venture an opinion as to whetherthat 
is your signature?” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Ashton, “ that is a base forgery.” 

“ It is?” 

“ I say it most emphatically, it is a forgery throughout. 
I never saw nor ever thought of writing such a letter to my 
friend. That is to my mind conclusive proof of a plot,” 
said Ashton. 

“I wish it was conclusive to my mind, Mr. Ashton,” 
said the coroner. 

He then turned the letter toward the light and examined 
it more carefully than before. After some little pause, he 
said, “ If I know anything about your hand writing, and 
I think I do, Mr. Ashton, that is a very clever forgery.” 

“ Very clever indeed,” said Ashton, “ I could not have 
done it better myself.’’ The forlorn hopelessness of Ashton’s 
face and the sadness of the tone in which these last words 
were uttered touched every heart. 

The news of such an extraordinary murder flew on the 
wings of the wind. The evening dailies soon appeared, and 
the newsboys were crying in shrill tones, “All about the 
murder of Dr. Arlington.” A surgical instrument maker, 
and friend of the Doctor, hearing this startling statement, 
hastily glanced over the head lines of the paper and repaired 
at once to the scene of the tragedy. 


18 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


He arrived before the examination was completed and 
at once informed the officer in charge of Ashton that he was 
in possession of important facts relating to the matter. He 
was admitted into the presence of the coroner and his jury. 
His testimony was of a very startling character. He began 
by saying that he was a surgical instrument maker, and re- 
sided at No. street; his name was J. K. Ward. 

“About two weeks ago,’’ said he, “I made a dagger 
for a man whom I now see before me. It was of the Bowie 
style, ivory handle, inlaid with gold, and had the name on 
the handle.” 

“ Would you be positive as to what the name was?’’ 
asked the coroner. 

“ I have the man’s name in my pass-book, in which 
orders of that nature are recorded at the time they are taken.” 

“Do you have that pass-book with you now?” inquired 
the coroner. 

“Yes sir, I have kept it in my pocket ever since the 
day the order was taken, for I had some suspicions and no 
little misgiving about the matter both at the time the order 
was left and when the man came for the knife.” 

“That last statement is altogether gratuitous,” said 
the coroner. 

The instrument maker seemed to be anxious to relieve 
himself of the book and without being asked to do so, 
handed it to the officer who in turn passed it to the coroner. 

“ You will find the order on page 25 under date of—.” 

“ When did you make this entry?” asked the coroner. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


19 


“ The day the order was given as appears in the book.” 

“Would you be able to identify the knife if it was 
shown you? ” 

“ I would sir.” 

“How?” 

“ By my trade mark.’’ 

“You may look at that knife,” said the coroner, “ and- 
tell us if it is the one you made, to fill the order in the book 
you have presented here.” 

“I find my trade mark on it and recognize it as the 
knife I made to fill the order I have recorded in my pass- 
book now in your possession,’’ said the instrument maker. 

Taking the knife from the hand of the witness the 
coroner asked him to state to the jury what his trade mark 
consisted of. 

“My trade mark,” said he, “is composed of two 
scalpels crossed at the middle of the blades and the initials 
of my name starting on the left with J. ; the K. at the top, 
and the W. at the right and placed on the instrument made 
by me with a steel die.” 

“ You may give the name of the person for whom you 
made this knife,” said the coroner. 

“ I made it for a man who said his name was John Ash- 
ton, and I recognize him as being the gentlemen sitting in 
that chair,” pointing toward Ashton, “on the day stated in my 
pass-book.” 

“To whom did you deliver it?” 


20 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“To that man,’’ again pointing toward Ashton, “day 
before yesterday.” 

“What was said or done at the time the knife was 
delivered to Mr. Ashton?” asked the coroner. 

i( When he came to get the knife, and as he was handing 
me the money for it, I asked him what he wanted of such a 
knife as that?” replied the instrument maker. 

“ What reply, if any, did he make? ” 

“He said he was going up into the mountains the 
coming month on a deer hunt, and was getting it made for 
that purpose.” 

This net-work of circumstances made the duty of the 
jury plain. The verdict was unanimous, and was announced 
within ten minutes. 

“Dr. Arlington came to his death at the hands of John 
Ashton, by means of a dagger, with which the said John 
Ashton inflicted a wound in the throat and left breast, causing 
instant death.” 


“ It has been truly said that every large collection of 
human beings, however well educated, has a strong tendency 
to become a mob.” 

Dr. Arlington’s death was soon known at the medical 
university, which was but a square from where he was mur- 
dered. The doctor was dean of the faculty, and a general 
favorite among the students. 

The news of his death created intense excitement among 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 21 

the students, and in an instant the entire number rushed to 
the office of Bullion, Ashton & Bullion. 

The side entrance and door' to Ashton’s private office 
had been closed and guarded by police. The main entrance 
to the general office had been kept open for the admission 
of the coroner’s jury and the witnesses. Several officers 
were busy controlling the crowd and keeping the passage 
way unobstructed. 

Julia Bullion, of the law firm of Bullion, Ashton & 
Bullion, arrived at the office a few minutes in advance of the 
students, and had learned the main facts and verdict of the 
coroner’s jury. She was standing in the center of the main 
office in conversation with an officer when the head of the 
column of students forced its way in and demanded from the 
police the delivery of Ashton to them to be dealt with ac- 
cording to their will and pleasure. 

The leader of the students halted when he saw that he 
was confronted by a woman, tall, young, handsome, calm, 
and self-possessed in the midst of so much excitement. 

She did not wait for the officer’s reply. “Young gen- 
tlemen, your demand is unreasonable. You certainly can 
not expect the officers in charge to respect it.” 

“ Pay no attention to a woman.” “ No time for talk,” 
and other expressions of similar import came from different 
ones of the students as they forced their way into the main 
office. Those, without hearing the loud words of those 
within, pressed on until the main office was filled, and Julia 


22 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Bullion was forced into the door-way leading to the private 
office of Ashton, where he was in charge of the police. 

She was accustomed to rely upon her own resources. 
She did not appeal to the officers. She faced that crowd of 
angry and excited students without betraying the least em- 
barrassment or emotion. 

The more brutal and blood-thirsty ones flourished scal- 
pels and were loud in their demands. They would mete out 
summary justice. They would dispense with court, jury, 
lawyers, and hangman. 

If Ashton was to be removed it must be by the side 
door, and that too before the crowd gathered there. He 
could cross the room from where he sat and go out the side 
door without being observed by any one in front. If his 
retreat could be covered he was safe. No one could better 
perform that service than his junior partner. 

She lifted her hand as if about to speak. “ Young 
gentlemen, do you know what you are attempting to do?” 
There was a pause. There was no response to her question 
other than the labored breathing of this excited and infuri- 
ated mob. 

“ Will you hear me?” Those in the hall and near the 
outer door shouted, “No! No!” while those near her who 
saw that the unpleasant part of the self-imposed task would 
fall upon them, shouted, “Yes! Yes!’’ 

She raised her hand again as an indication that she 
wanted to be heard. A dozen or more voices said, “ Hear! 
Hear!” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


23 


“Young gentlemen, this commonwealth demands no 
such action from you. In your calmer moments you will 
shrink from taking such responsibilities upon yourselves as 
you now court. You have no reason to fear that the mur- 
der of Dr. Arlington will not be avenged. If Mr. Ashton 
is the guilty one there is no power or influence that can 
liberate him. The even hand of justice needs no aid from 
you. Calls for no assistance from any one not charged with 
the duties of her offices. She is already backed and in- 
trenched behind the power, wealth and authority of govern- 
ment. She is clothed with the mystic power of the majority. 
Have no fears. She will be able to hold the scales with 
equal hand against one poor defenseless man single handed 
and alone. ” 

While Julia Bullion was addressing the angry crowd in 
the main office the police in charge quietly removed Ashton 
to the street by the side entrance and hurried him off to 
prison. 


24 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER II 


“It was a triumph of mediocrity, sweet to majorities, and destiny 
consented to the irony.” 



i.HE commonwealth made its case on the day of trial, 
as the commonwealth so often does, with banter, 
bravado, and brutality. 

Little souls gloat over the laurels woven out of the 
tears and groans and heartaches of the unfortunate. Little 
minds piece out a verdict from the shreds and patches of 
the truth and content themselves with looking at the wrong 
side of the tapestry that forms the warp and woof of the 
facts. They see nothing but the blurred and confused mass 
of colors because they cannot rise above themselves to the 
level on which circumstances are themselves formulated and 
take on shape and color. 

Parade, ye puppet counsel for the commonwealth, 
“jerked by unseen wires,’’ flaunt your “ paste-board pas- 
sions and desires,’’ in the faces of the other puppets in the 
“box.” 

But know ye all, that the silent majority of yesterday 
will soon be joined by the boisterous minority of to day, 
not in search of retribution, but being searched by the in- 
effable brightness of the swift coming to-morrow, where the 
accused and accuser will meet upon the broad level of an 
unerring judgment, where every heart will be stripped of 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


25 


the attributes that made it deceitful above all things and 
desperately wicked, where the truth will be freed from the 
color of circumstances and float forever in the bright em- 
pyrean, rejoicing ever more in the spotless purity and beauty 
of its magnificent might. 

The circumstances surrounding the death of Dr. Arling- 
ton were all tricked out with the letter, the dagger, its iden- 
tity by the maker, and poured into the ears of that spongy 
excrescence of the judicial tribunal — called a jury — until 
it was filled, bloated, and glutted to oblivion of the real facts. 

Oh, the jocose satire of our boasted justice and liberty. 
How beautiful it appears when applied to our enemies. 
How revolting when measured out to ourselves. A pad of 
blotting paper with limited capacity. When it has absorbed 
to fullness it must reject all else. 

John Ashton found the jury, that had been sworn well 
to try and true deliverance make, a mere blotting pad satur- 
ated with the circumstances before he could be heard. It 
was to no purpose that he proved that at the time he was 
supposed to have gone to the surgical instrument maker’s 
place he was engaged in a trial of a case in the very room 
where he was being tried for his life. 

Dr. Arlington was murdered in his private office, if the 
real perpetrator could not be found the law must be satis- 
fied, and John Ashton must be compelled into the great and 
everlasting indolence of death, rather than have suspicion 
lurk behind the balance of the scales held in justice’s hand. 

Able and learned counsel argued in vain that a man 


26 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


of Ashton’s knowledge and appreciation of the power of 
circumstances would have woven around himself such a 
complete net work of tell-tale truths that the absolute com- 
pleteness was conclusive of a plot. 

O the beauty, the power, the glory of that effete ex- 
crescence; sacred because hoary headed with age. How 
completely it demonstrates the tendency of civilization to 
cling to customs because they are ancient. 

A victim of a plot caught in the vortex of crushing 
circumstances. “Innocent,” says the law, “until )'Ou are 
proven guilty.” But you will not be allowed to lift so much 
as a finger in the proof of your innocence until the power 
and might of the State, backed by the vindictive malevo- 
lence of the State’s representative, ambitious to succeed in 
bringing the guilty to punishment, has held you up to the 
scorn and contempt and ridicule of the world. The wager 
of battle was not more absurd. It is living after you have 
died the death, to prove that you were innbcent. 

Society is the loaded dice. The packed jury, ever in 
the box, ready to take the testimony of some unfortunate 
after everything that can be said to his discredit has first 
been submitted. It was ever thus. Circumstances must be 
accepted as conclusive as against the only person living that 
has a right to negative them. 

“Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne, 

Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown 
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


27 


CHAPTER III 


“ Men may be mad for opinions, but who can be mad for facts.” 



EGAL learning, tact, and talent exhausted all their re- 
resources to no purpose. Judge and jury and coun- 
sel all believed that Ashton was the only man who 


was in a position to know the truth and able to tell it with- 
out fear or favor. Not one of them would have dared to 
have met him outside the trial room, even if upon his solemn 
oath, and said he was not. No, not one of them composing 
the apostolic twelve would have gone forth and said, making 
himself individually responsible, that he ought to suffer the 
death penalty. 

Shame, then, on the civilization of the nineteenth century 
that would have twelve men say, upon their solemn oaths, 
what one of them would not have the courage to do alone. 
Shame, then, on that civilization, the integral unit of which 
does not have the high moral courage and sense of right that 
each individual composing that unit by nature possesses. 
Shame on the civilization that needs must organize itself into 
a howling, frenzied mob before it can trample under foot the 
crushed and bruised and bleeding and broken heart that each 
individual member would have bathed in tears of love and 
sympathy, and given his life blood to have saved. 

John Ashton was the one man who knew that he was 
innocent, but dumb circumstances said he was not, and the 


28 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


howling mob, the conservators of law and order, decreed 
that an opinion based upon cowardice must outweigh all the 
truth, because the perpetrator of the act stood in the spot 
shadowed by the light of circumstances, and to the law was 
unknown. 

The yard stick of circumstantial evidence is the only 
unit of measure acceptable to society. To it the certain 
knowledge of one or two has no weight, if the act declared 
to have been done rises above the level of the comprehension 
of society. 

The cloud of circumstances blotted out the bright, par- 
ticular star of truth, and the maddened crowd declared that 
because the darkness obscured their vision no light could 
elsewhere exist. 

How remorseless and pitiless is that would-be incontro- 
vertible certainty circumstance? It has that sort of halo 
around it that is mistaken for dry light. It throws shadows 
and darkness over objects and persons which would other- 
wise be luminous but for its deception. It makes of one ob- 
ject two different phantoms, and plays off the one against the 
other. It is the camera obscura that pretends to give a faith- 
ful picture of everything within its field of view. It declares 
that the picture registered by it is the only one that could 
possibly have been taken. It forgets to remember that it 
could only record the fact that was within its field of view, 
while its sensitive plate was exposed to the light. It forgets 
to remember that all the smirks and grimaces of its subject 
were enacted while the operator was in his darkened room 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


29 


preparing for the particular sitting which is to be represented 
for preservation. . 

Circumstances bear the same relation to the facts that 
the sensitive plate does to the picture, they do not of neces- 
sityreveal the manipulator or the pictures that might have 
been taken if the operator had been disposed to record them. 

John Ashton had often stood before twelve of his peers 
and argued the cause of facts and their relation to circum- 
stances, but never until now did he fully realize that circum- 
stances and surroundings were capable of perverting the real 
facts and truths of the world, of history, of nations, of 
States, of society, of families, of home, of self, and belie the 
man in relation to his dearest interests, best impulses, and 
better nature. 

The glamour of circumstances and surroundings is the * 
gilded saloon of life. The naked facts are the dregs at the 
bottom of the cup. The soft, sweet melody of music floats 
joyously on summer zephyrs, and every note is wafted on 
wings of peace and happiness and love. These are but the 
trappings, the tinsel show. The truth is as often an unceas- 
ing moan. A buried hope, a blighted love, a “might have 
been.” 

“ We look before and after, 

And pine for what is not: 

Our sincerest laughter 
With some pain is fraught; 

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.” 

On many a fair face life mantles in crimson every dimple 
as with joy, while the heart may be crushed and bleeding 


30 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


from unmitigated and unmitigating sorrow. Be calm then, 
John Ashton, you are not alone in this world of misery. 
Be calm, all ye who suffer behind prison bars, because cir- 
cumstances have belied the facts. Be calm, all ye who 
stand on the scaffold, because your fellows have played 'you 
off against a shadow, a trick, a sound from the abyss. 

There are those whose souls have beaten with tireless 
wings against invisible bars until hot, burning tears have 
fretted and scarred as with fire the once roseate cheeks, 
until all smiles and joy and hope have fled and nothing is 
left but the foam upon the maniac’s lips. There are other 
hearts that lie cringing and broken beneath crushing and 
brutalizing customs and laws that have for two hundred 
years been dead letters upon nature’s statute books. More 
senseless, more cruel, more brutalizing because those who 
suffer are conscious that they are weaving chains for others, 
building scaffolds, erecting unholy shrines, cruel altars upon 
which will be slaughtered whole hecatombs of human hearts 
to inhuman molochs. 

These cages for thought, builded by thought, are far 
more exasperating and degrading than all the prisons built 
by men wherein to incarcerate men. These customs so in- 
grained into humanity stand for the semblance of truth, 
justice, and liberty to that extent that whoever has the 
hardihood to dispute their claims is held up to execration 
and infamy, and looked upon as 

“Too infamous to have a friend, 

Too bad for bad men to commend, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


31 


Or good to name; beneath whose weight 
Earth groans, who hath been spared by fate 
Only to show on mercy’s plan, 

How far and long God bears with man.” 

Be calm, for the world will yet learn that nothing that 
attempts to keep out thought is safe from thought. Be 
calm, for defensive customs, though heaven-sanctioned they 
may be, purporting to come from God, will one day lose 
hold on God. 


32 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER IV 


“ Our joys are a shadow and the supreme smile belongs to God.” 



MOTION for a new trial was overruled. The court of 
last resort said there was no error. Justice was sat- 
isfied. Sentence was pronounced. Executive clem- 
ency was invoked and denied. In four months John Ashton 
was to be judicially murdered, 


He announced through his counsel that he would take 
his last leave of his friends at the bar, whose forum he had 
so often graced. That he would part with them as a man. 
That he would see none of them in a felon’s cell, for felon 
he was none. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


33 


CHAPTER V 

“ ’Tis liberty alone which gives the flower 
Of fleeting life its luster and perfume, 
And we are weeds without it.” 


0||JUDGE BULLION, senior member of the law firm 
of Bullion, Ashton & Bullion, was, as man, lawyer, 
and judge, clear cut as a cameo. Above the med- 
ium size and build, imposing, captivating in manner and ap- 
pearance, massive, bold, brainy, fearless, and aggressive. 
His attainments were many-sided. He was, in fact, a versa- 
tile man — scholarly, a lover of music, versed in science, lit- 
erature, at home outside of his profession as well as in it 
He was far-sighted, keen-sighted, cool, calculating, a student 
of men as well as of books, quick in thought, rapid in reason- 
ing, impulsive where his passions were aroused and inter- 
ested. Always on the alert for the vantage ground, which 
he took possession of on the first opportunity and never 
abandoned. If forced to fight, he contested every inch of 
ground. If beaten, which rarely happened, it was in the 
last ditch. The victor was sure to find that the prize con- 
tested for was dearly purchased, and that victory was but 
another name for defeat. 

At the age of twenty-five he decided to settle his domes- 
tic relations, and selected a partner for life. In this, as in all 
other thoughts, acts, and affairs, he was the same cool, de- 


34 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


liberate, and thoughtful man. He was not to be caught by 
any trick of thought, dreamy eyes, handsome face, attain- 
ments or popularity. He had been four years at the bar, and 
knew what there was in power, place, and advantage. He 
knew equally well what it was to have the laboring oar. A 
woman of good family, well connected, possessed of good 
health, good training, scholarly, traveled, cultured, and 
wealthy would be easier to love and admire than one of 
rare beauty, attractive, captivating in person or manners 
only. In short, a woman who is a fortune in herself as well 
as in earthly possessions. 

With Russell Bullion marriage was business ; business, ; 
success; success, everything; and without it everything was 
nothing. “Thus saith the law,” was his guiding star. 

Whither it led he never hesitated to follow. If the path 
led to ampler fates he never stopped to ask t( whence ?’’ or 
whither?” With him, the maxim about “winning fair 
lady ” applied equally as well in capturing a vicious bull 
dog, in taking advantage of the glorious uncertainties of the 
law, as it did in affairs of the heart. 

He married the only daughter of a wealthy banker. 
It might have been said, “ My ducats and my daughter,’’ 
applied, but when the law allows it and the court awards it, 
a lawyer is not the man, usually, to refuse it. “Let the; 
purchaser beware,” is the law of merchants. It applies, 
equally as well in selecting a husband. If Mrs. Bullion was; 
taken in by the transaction she never gave it away. 

He at least was satisfied with his selection. If she was 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


35 


not as valuable as the “great mountain of light,” he knew 
she was not a fashion bazar, a medicine chest, or a French 
novel. If her ideas were not those of the average girl, it 
mattered not. He knew the average girl’s ideas were not 
of her formulation, nor always to her liking, but the out- 
growth of what her mother’s mother had fed upon, the same 
that she had experienced and expected to feed her daughters 
upon — if she was so unfortunate as to have daughters — 
and as a matter of fact to bow to custom as abjectly as she 
would bow to fate. 

In personal charms, beauty, natural endowments, ac- 
quired attainments, culture, she was the peer of Russell 
Bullion, and was conscious that there were points that he 
could not reach, up the white heights of womanhood. For 
all that she had been the victim of customs and prejudices. 
She had danced through the required number of seasons, 
had had crowded receptions, a great many flatterers at balls, 
the proper number of admirers who had thrown themselves 
on their knees and exposed their worthless and flunky hearts 
and declared that without owning her for life they could not 
and would not be happy. Having seen all the shallowness 
and tomfoolery of society she married for love, money, pride, 
pique, spite, jealousy, or something equally as absurd or 
foolish. Her entrance into society was accompanied with a 
certain amount of flourish of trumpets and blowing of horns. 
So at her exit it was but fitting to the dropping of the cur- 
tain that there be the necessary stage thunder, Chinese lan- 
terns, Roman candles, and other brilliancies to announce that 


36 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


the last scene of the fifth act had been reached. This 
finished, the metamorphosing began ; that is, the transforma- 
tion from being something to being somebody’s. 

Russell Bullion’s marriage was a success, of course. 
There was no such thing as failure where he was a party to 
the contract, or threw himself in as a consideration. He 
did not stop to discuss with himself the now much-mooted 
question, “Is marriage a failure?” It was enough to know 
that whether it was a sacrament or a contract it would make 
the two one, and that it would not be necessary to inquire 
which of the two would be the one. 

It will bear repeating, Russell Bullion’s marriage was a 
success, a gorgeous success, substantial withal. It brought 
him power and standing professionally, and that was wealth, 
and that was influence, and that was power — and that was 
everything. It was power to use everything to his advantage 
and advancement. It was power to put his foot upon the 
dead self of another. It was the stepping stone to his own 
elevation. It was power to stay her at home unkept. It was 
power to extract pleasure for himself and give in return 
nothing but pain. It was power to reproduce his kind and 
gratify a passion that gave him nothing but delight unalloyed 
with pain, but entailed upon her momentus consequences 
that put her life in the single throw of the dice with an even 
chance of losing it, that trammeled up with its surcease all 
that there is in life the sublimest and holiest, strongest and 
gentlest, that involved a life and death struggle, that stamped 
on her brow a new and shining name, the name that is 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


37 


voiced in our first wailing cry and best becomes our latest 
breath; the name on earth the best, brightest, purest, lov- 
liest — mother. O mother, mother, mother, a similarity of 
sweetest symphony, lisped in whatsoever tongue God-given, 
God-blest, and God-redeemed. 


38 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER VI 


“ We ne’er are angels till our passions die.” 



' t HE junior member of the law firm of Bullion, Ashton 
& Bullion was born the very day Judge Bullion was 
twenty- six. Mrs. Bullion was then a bright, beauti- 

ful, cultured, and charming woman of twenty-one. A de- 
cided blonde. The contrast between her and Judge Bullion 
was as striking as it was agreeable to look upon. Their ex- 
tremes in appearance, he dark, strong, and even swarthy ; she 
fair, agile, and elastic — true as steel that could spring again 
and thrust — created a wide, wide world of difference in tem- 
perament, feeling, and thought. 

She had passed through her grub state of girlhood, and 
had reached the full and rounded measure of womanhood. 
Her grub state did not develop her into a mere butterfly, but 
transformed her into that clear, calm, crystalized state of 
being that can be reached only through feeling, the true 
basis of all thought, the bed-rock of humanity. 

She had taken this responsibility upon herself after 
mature deliberation, forethought and reflection. She knew 
there was pain, danger, anxiety, fears within and foes with- 
out. She knew that the helpless, throbbing pulsation at her 
bosom, as she held it close and closer and daily felt it in- 
creasing in life and strength, was developing its dumb, 
speechless tentacle into a mouth, that as soon as the budding 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


39 


rose began to put forth its appearance the thorn would be 
there. She knew the pain of milk-teeth at her breast was 
only the forerunner of deeper emotions and pains. 

But she was not the woman to bite back the pain in self- 
scorn, self-rebuke, and self-reproach, for she had been 
prompted by higher, purer, and better feeling, an inspiration 
that makes martyrs, the beauty of self sacrifice, that carries 
with it its own reward. She knew that those who lay down the 
greatest load of selfishness thus make room in their hearts 
for the greatest amount of good. 

The two years that Mrs. Russell Bullion spent in the 
care and education of her daughter were years spent in a 
labor of love. These years had found her in a large measure 
alone. They had given her husband the freedom of society. 

He was young, handsome, and brilliant. Just such a 
man as society delights to honor. Such a man as it accords 
and encourages in unlimited freedom. His very position of 
husband and father makes him an object of especial interest 
to both maid and matron. It is admissible to pay him so 
many attentions, little courtesies that are not allowable to 
single gentlemen. It is so tempting to stand far out on the 
jutting crags where yawning gulfs roll below. It is so ex- 
hilarating to gather flowers that grow just over the edge of 
the awful abyss. The gentle pressure of the hand, the 
melting glance of the eye that of right belongs to another 
is very dear because it partakes of the smack and relish of 
stolen fruit. The otherwise insipid is “just too awfully 
nice ” if it is only wicked. 


40 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


It was thus that Russell Bullion had opened up to him 
new fields unthought of by him before. It was seductive 
because it was dangerous. Was he to blame? Was it not 
natural? Did he ordain it so? Did not the unwritten law 
of society so decree? 

If his marriage had brought him nothing but pleasure 
and his wife all the pain, danger, and responsibilities, was 
he to be held to account for it? Hardly. Was it not self- 
imposed? Was it not that sort of pain that made her for- 
getful of it? 

Yes, her solitude was of her own seeking, voluntary, it 
brought her a new life. Her absence from society was self- 
denial of the highest type. It brought her face to face with 
the open-doored brightness of the infinite. While the wait- 
ing and foreboding such only as the prospective mother can 
know, while the cares of motherhood were chasing the 
bloom from her cheeks, he was learning to bring out all the 
warmth and glow that his presence and power aroused in 
the moths of society that flitted around his brilliancy. 

When Julia was old enough for Mrs. Bullion to again 
take her place in society by her husband’s side she found all 
things changed. She was not to be flattered and courted. 
She had been through all that. To use the exact legal 
language of her husband she was now “off the docket, dis- 
missed, costs paid, no record.” 

Henceforth she was to be only the stepping stone to 
her dear husband’s advancement. She was safe. She must 
be content with the remarks, ‘ ‘ Why, how you have changed,” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


41 


“ You really look ten years older than when I last saw you/’ 
“ How is the dear baby?” and a thousand other questions 
that only serve as a gentle reminder that she was simply the 
wife of Russell Bullion. 

He floats in the dreamy waltz, the observed of all ob- 
servers, while she is simply married. No man thinks of 
her, dares extend her the attentions that would be admissi- 
ble if she had not been a wife and mother. If it were ad- 
missible the bloom would again come back to her cheek, 
the blood tingle in her veins, and her grace, beauty, wit, 
and culture make her the much sought-after, and Russell 
Bullion would again be compelled to enter the tournament 
as a contestant for the prize, to find many a staunch foeman 
worthy his steel, and she would be beautiful always with 
danger’s sweetness round her. 

How often do talented and charming women feel this 
blighting, this withering curse laying its heavy hand upon 
them ! How often they learn when too late that to be thus 
unkept is to be shelved, tabooed as “ somebody’s! ” But 
we are told that divinity has shaped her end thus, and hew 
it how she may, it must forever remain the same. 


42 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER VII 

“ Narrow 

“The heart that loves, the brain that contemplates, 

The life that weaves, the spirit that creates, 

One object and one form, and builds thereby 
A sepulchre for its eternity.” 

[y both in years and in practice that Russell 
had been elevated to the bench. His nomi- 
nation and election had been brought about and consum- 
mated by a coterie of little minds, that strive after consistency ; 
that attempt to believe a lie for a lifetime rather than appear 
inconsistent for a single moment. The peculiar characteris- 
tic of the aforesaid little mind consists in that order of 
mental vision, that sees almost as far into the future as it 
can look back into the past. These judicial statesmen who 
believed in their inner consciousness, as they argued upon 
the “thingness of which,” the “nearness of where,” that 
they were the people, and that when they died all wisdom 
of selecting and detecting judicial mind was liable to die 
with them. They pushed his claims of peculiar fitness and 
adaptability upon various grounds; it was not only his ability, 
learning, and training, coupled with high character and social 
standing that made him such an available and much-to-be- 
sought-after candidate, but his freedom from prejudice and 
bias so likely to be developed in any man by years of prac- 
tice. They argued that he would be free from that per- 



VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


43 


nicious nature of the craft, so often seen on the bench; that 
he would not be arguing one or the other side, because 
nettled by aggressive counsel, with all the dexterity of an 
advocate, while affecting the impartiality of the judge. They 
affected to believe that if a lawyer could be selected young 
enough, who knew the law and had sufficient experience to 
be familiar with practice, who had not as yet acquired the 
guile and gall of the aged sinner in the profession, they 
would thereby achieve “the consummation devoutly to be 
wished.” They had not stopped to consider the atmos- 
phere that had from his first induction into these ancient 
mysteries surrounded the student of this divine thing called 
“The Law.” They had forgotten to remember the atmos- 
phere in which our whole social system is bathed as the 
earth is immersed in the ethereal blue. They had forgotten 
that all of us have been subject to the law of society; 
wherein one of the contracting parties, responsible for our 
being is by the nature of the contract, nil: when the bargain 
is consummated; that all the usages, customs, precedents, 
books, even from the horn-book of the profession to its last 
reported cases, are based upon the theory that the king — 
society — can do no wrong; that when two beings become 
one that he is the one . These same judicial philosophers 
shut their eyes to the fact that appetite increases by the 
thing it feeds upon; they continue to talk about the shyster 
and dishonest lawyer and the noble and upright judge; to 
them the one is but the common crockery; the other the 
porcelain of humanity. 


44 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


If the precise spot does exist where the rascally and 
scoundrelly practice of the lawyer is transformed into nobil- 
ity and uprightness in the judge, it has not as yet been loca- 
ted on the map of natural or legal geography. If there is 
such a thing as a change from the wicked lawyer to the up- 
right and righteous judge; the change is equivalent to that 
of the change in the leopard’s spots, when he gets up from 
one spot and lies down in another. That is the divinity of 
the law; that is the sort of divine thing that we dare not 
look into, or puncture with one of those little crooked things 
that asks questions. That’s the “love, serve, and obey,” 
the chain whose links lead back and bind us to the corpse of 
the dead past. 

Judge Bullion was content to follow the beaten and 
broad highway of legal precedent. He had good authority 
outside of Blackstone. He followed the spirit of that bril- 
liant luminary whose burning eloquence lighted up Mar’s 
Hill more than eighteen hundred years ago; that filled the 
wondering Athenian with more of wonder than all the strange 
things he ever beheld — gorgeous, luminous eloquence that 
still shines, a consuming fire, long after the glory of Greece 
has crumbled into indistinguishable decay. He was in full 
accord with that renowned enthusiast, who had so much and 
such profound respect for the law that it was only when a 
light shone round about him from heaven that he ceased to 
say, “If your honor please.’’ So strong was his love for 
precedents, that the blinding light at mid day did not dispel 
all his legal nature, for he wielded that glittering two-edged 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


45 


sword of the law with such consummate power, brilliancy, 
and convincing might, that even the king said, “This man 
might have been set at liberty if he had not appealed unto 
Caesar.” But he would not. So completely was he wedded 
to the power of precedents, so thoroughly imbued with its 
doctrines, that he preferred saving exceptions, that he might 
go up to Caesar, to the preparing of souls that they might go 
in peace to the shining courts of Omnipotence. 

When thousands of glittering gems that had fallen from 
the lips of Him who spake as never man spake, might have 
been repeated to the churches under his ministration, for 
their comfort and their hope; when the story of His love 
whose “blessed” hands and feet were nailed for their ad- 
vantage to the bitter cross, might have been poured into 
their ears like "music from his tongue, his penchant for prec- 
edent got the better of his inspiration, and he talked of that 
which he knew absolutely nothing, and true to the nature of 
ignorance, hurled an insult at the heads of one-half his con- 
gregation, “ Wives obey your husbands.” 

Is it, then, any cause of wonderment that the earth yet 
groans beneath the colossal burdens of customs, precedents, 
and prejudices, when men still bow to them as they bow to 
fate? 


46 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER VIII 


“ Beautiful as a wreck of paradise,” 



J|UT for the “ somebodys ’’ Mrs. Bullion would have 
been an entity in the world of thought and activity. 
She would have gone forth into the world, in natural 
advantages, in thought, feeling, and tender sympathies the 
superior of any man. Her motherhood had unsealed the 
fountains of her heart, and she would have been, in unison 
with all the noble sentiments of suffering humanity. From 
being the queen of solitude she would have emerged the 
queen of society. But the blight and mildew of custom and 
precedent were upon that house. She could do nothing but 
dream and dote ; waste her energies in beholding the growth 
and beauty of her child, and have her joy and happiness 
balanced against the thought that she too would one day be 
played off against the lust and desire of a man’s ownership 
and passion. 


Judge Bullion’s time was taken up between his growing 
ambition and his duty on the bench. She saw but little of 
him and his companionship was less. It was not the cares 
of the noble Brutus that enforced this separation. No, if 
it had been a “ Noble Brutus” she could have been another 
“ Portia.” If it be true, that, 


“ The bravest are the tenderest, 
The loving are the daring,” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


47 


none could have been tenderer; none could have been braver 
or gone before her in true daring. No, she had been caught 
in the trap sprung by society. In the language of pre- 
cedent, she had been guilty of an estopple; that is, she had 
been silent when she might have spoken, and now that she 
would speak she must remain forever silent. It is only 
man’s prerogative to cry aloud and spare not. It was not 
the pains of child-bearing; it was not the tender solicitude 
and wakeful hours that had left hard lines of care on her 
brow ; that had changed her golden crown to silver gray. 
It was the galling bitterness of the ripened fruit that she 
had plucked, that now was wasted ashes on her lips. While 
she rocked the cradle of the child of their two bodies, he 
with tender solicitude watched over the child of his intellect 
— a. new book on “ Marriage and Divorce” — significant title! 

To prepare this for the press was a laborious task. He 
advertised for an amenuensis. He found one in the person 
of a young lady stenographer, young, beautiful, and accom- 
plished. How passing strange that so much of this world 
has been created for man’s sole use, behoof, and benefit! 

None but those who have had the blessed experience 
can appreciate how a married man would be aided and abet- 
ted in such a work by such an addition to his working capac- 
ity; how the sunshine of a handsome young lady would 
illumine musty pages of precedents; how cheery words, 
vivacious, and lively manners would smooth out the ruffled 
temper of an over-worked judge; how deft fingers, swift in 
execution, would push the labor; how much more he could 


48 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


endure in research; how much easier it would be to remain 
until the “ wee small hours ” in his office in the drudgery of 
pouring over ancient volumes of forgotten lore in company 
with such a congenial spirit. 

The book progressed with wonderful rapidity. The in- 
terest grew in the work; it soon became a labor of love, in 
which two hearts as well as two heads were equally absorbed. 
The hours spent by the mother in watching over the cradle 
were followed by other hours in waiting for the judge to sus- 
pend labor and consign the child of his intellect to forgetful- 
ness and his body to healthful sleep. 

It was said long ago “that the innocent sleep.’’ The 
incoherent mutterings that had in the first years of his labors 
on the bench sometimes fallen from his slumbering lips, 
such as the following: “ Gentlemen of the jury.” “ If you 
find.’’ “ It is the sentence.’’ “Motion overruled.” ‘‘The 
case at bar.” Were now changed into gentle murmurings 
of soft nothings, “Ethel, dear,” and other protestations of 
love that plainly told that the noble judge was faithless to 
his former vows. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


49 


CHAPTER IX 


“Struck by the envious wrath of man or God.” 

» HE judge’s amanuensis had been reared in the strictest 
school of the devotees of the marriage contract, who 
believed that woman was especially created for mar- 
riage and not marriage for woman. That any course that 
did not lead to that goal was born of sin. 

She had accepted this position against the advice and 
warnings of friends, but work she must, for the support of 
an aged and invalid mother depended upon her exertions. 
The sum that she could earn depended upon the amount of 
work she did, and as she was paid extra for the additional 
time she was only too glad to devote her evenings to her 
employment and the advancement of her employer’s inter- 
ests. But to be alone with a man not her husband until the 
late hours of the night did not comport with the monkish 
notions of society with which she had had the misfortune to 
be surrounded. If she had not taken the fatal step in the 
acceptance of such a position in the broad light of the day, 
she had now given room for the breath of suspicion. If 
she had not as yet crossed the rubicon that divided her from 
the “truly good,’’ she had waded deep into its waters. If 
she was not as yet guilty of any indiscretion she was already 


a sinner. And as many others have had the in- 



nocent ground cut from under their guileless feet and plunged 

4 


50 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


into the vortex of destruction, so she was now brought face 
to face with calumny, and that other hell-born, soul-destroy- 
ing slander, 

“Though slander, meanest spawn of hell, 

And woman’s slander is the worst,” 

her mind so poisoned and sickened by the foul and false ac- 
cusations that there was no virtue in fighting to keep the 
body undefiled. 

Every cause must have its martyrs. So her heart was 
laid as an immolation upon the altar of woman’s liberty, 
freedom, disenthrallment from that custom and precedent 
that says, “stand in the market overt of matrimony, not in 
the market where she can sell her brain-power, skill, ability, 
and adaptability, to do and perform work suited to her capa- 
bilities and fitness.” 

Be calm, woman, the day is breaking. If society would 
but see the wrecks upon either side of the river of destruc- 
tion caused by its self-constituted censorship, it would hide 
its mouth in the dust, at least long enough for some poor, 
forsaken, blasted, blighted, ruined, sin-cursed Magdalene to 
say, “she that is without sin, let her first cast a stone.” 
But society has its own peculiar ways and methods of deal- 
ing with the erring, it punishes not for being guilty but for 
being caught. 

As the judge was not caught in this episode, society* 
was undisturbed. But the placid bosom of the lake that is; 
ruffled by the dropping of a pebble at its center in the quiet 
calm of the morning will tell its story in a ripple upon every 
sedgy shore in the dim twilight of evening. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


51 


Judge Bullion’s murmurings of love for another in his 
fitful slumbers were known only to his wife, and half guessed 
by himself. The secret was theirs. Thoughts but to two 
hearts known make for each a different path ; to the one an 
unceasing moan, to the other a diverting aftermath. The 
moaning of Mrs. Bullion died away in tongueless misery. 
She determined to live long enough to fortify the mind and 
heart of her child against the iniquity of a vow that had 
driven one woman into the everlasting sleep of death for the 
taking of it, and sending anofher into the never-ending 
misery of a nameless life because she had not. 

What Judge Bullion gathered as the ripened fruit of 
such inglorious aftermath we leave to his inner conscience to 
evolve when stung to madness by the lash of memory as it 
brought in pale review two pairs of eyes ; the one as calm a 
blue as heaven’s canopy at mid-day when unruffled by cloud 
or storm ; the other as black as midnight when the hollow 
heavens are hnng with inky clouds of troubled darkness. 
The pleading eloquence of the one that could melt to tears 
and pity ; the piercing brightness of the other that could in- 
spire to deeds of daring and death. Their commingled 
scorn and contempt shot like bolts of fierce lightning deep 
down into the inner depths of his soul. The golden bright- 
ness of the sunny curls was faded and tear-stained ; its glory 
had departed; it now seemed of itself a thing apart; it 
floated round that once lovely face like the dull, silvery 
fleeces that follow the last cloud of an expiring storm, whose 
thunder is its own death-knell. The raven tresses that once 


52 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


in their shining darkness seemed to cast a shadow over the 
clear white of that marble brow, now disheveled and storm- 
beaten, cast a glamour round that tear-distorted and grief- 
stricken face like the changing whiteness and darkness of 
low hanging clouds in the horizon, a portent to a coming 
fury of the elements, or standing out in lurid relief as the 
stormy back-ground to that face mantled in sorrow, starving 
for sympathy, fretted as with fire by an unrequited, a con- 
suming love. 

The ghost of a murdered Banquo shaking its gory locks 
and pushing him from his stool at the feast would have been 
but the fleeting fancies of childhood, vanishing at the dawn 
of manhood, compared with these phantoms that followed 
him day and night, that tortured his mind waking, and dis- 
turbed his dreams while sleeping. Truly, only the innocent 
sleep, for they alone deserve to. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


53 





CHAPTER X 

Man! thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear!’ 


ULIA had completed her course of study and supple- 
mented it with the art of shorthand at the time John 
Ashton entered her father’s law office as a student. 
To her, as to all others, he was a young man without a his- 
tory, without a past ; he knew no relatives ; had no recollec- 
tion of his mother; had never seen his father. He had been 
in strange lands; he spoke French, Italian, Spanish, and 
German with the ease that comes from the mother tongue. 
He had been in school all his life — how, by what means, at 
whose expense, he never knew. He had recollections of 
sunny skies, of oceans, seas, mountains, and rivers, strange 
cities, strange lands. He had in his possession, he knew not 
from what source, a locket of unusually large size; it con- 
tained on the one side a picture of a woman’s face, exquisite 
in its beauty; the other side was filled with a single tress of 
raven black hair. He had visions fair of this face; that its 
owner had held him once close in her arms, had smothered 
him almost with frantic kisses, and bathed his face with tears. 
These dim shadows seemed farther off than Homer’s now, 
because they were before the days of his school life. Before 
the Alps, the Mediterranean, and the blue Italian skies. 
These were the flashes that flitted from out the “ Everlasting 
nay;’’ they were from the inane, whence? where? 


54 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


whither? he could not even guess. He had recollections 
later on of waiking daily on the Champ Elysees with his 
French tutor; of seeing a singularly beautiful woman whose 
longing gaze struck agony and pity to his heart. Her hair 
was white as the driven snow. She often sat near him at the 
theater. Her eyes would then be constantly upon him. She 
took her coffee at the same cafe that he frequented. At such 
times she feasted upon his fair young face rather than that 
which was placed before her. She once pressed near him 
in the thronging multitude, grasped his hand passionately, 
touched his forehead with her lips, dropped a scalding tear 
on his cheek, and was gone forever. 

These recollections had cast a shadow over his young 
life, and tinged his brightest moments with a sombre hue. 
On leaving Paris his preceptor informed him that he had 
been born in America; that he was then thirteen years old; 
that he was to return to his native land. He had been intro- 
duced to a young man, then a student, who was to accom- 
pany him to the United States. 

When he arrived he was taken charge of by a preceptor 
of a school for boys, and was then informed that he was to 
complete a course preparatory to a collegiate training. Of 
this school for boys, Judge Bullion was a trustee. He 
offered a three hundred dollar prize for the best examination 
in modern languages at the close of Ashton’s first year. 
“Frenchy,” as the boys called him, carried off the prize. 
His politeness of manners, and gentlemanly instincts pleased 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


55 


Judge Bullion. The man and the boy soon became fast 
friends. They often took long walks together. 

This ripened friendship led to the judge defraying his 
collegiate expenses, and when that course was completed, 
Ashton entered the law office of his benefactor. 

There was but one promise that Judge Bullion ever 
exacted of Ashton, and that was, never to bestow his affec- 
tions without the judge’s approval and consent. “The 
law,” said the judge, “is a jealous mistress, and he who 
weds her must forego all other unions until thoroughly ac- 
quainted with his first spouse, and rooted and grounded in 
all her knowledge and principles.” 

Ashton and Julia were each stimulated in their acquisi- 
tions and search after legal knowledge by the other’s industry. 
The day previous to Ashton’s receiving his certificate from 
the hands of his preceptor, that would admit him to an ex- 
amination for admission to the bar, Julia astonished her 
father by asking him for a like certificate admitting her to 
the same examination. Judge Bullion looked at her with 
amazement, hurled at her the law and the prophets, Saint 
Paul and all the other saints, but to no purpose. She heard 
her father through calmly, and with respectful attention and 
silence as was her wont. When he had finished she arose and 
stood before him. She drew her proud form up to its full 
height, looked straight into his piercing black eyes and met 
his firm and steady gaze and did not flinch. She crossed 
her hands on her back, advanced her right foot, resting her 
weight on her left, elevated her chin, drew her shoulders 


56 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


back until every breath tossed her bosom as the heaving* 
billows move by the power of the storm that troubles 
them. 

Judge Bullion’s face flushed with fatherly pride as he 
beheld her, it paled quickly at the rising storm of passion 
that his trained eye discerned was raging in her whole 
being. It was evident that she was struggling for the 
mastery over herself. She made one powerful effort to be 
calm ; her every feature settled to repose ; the storm heard 
the voice of the inward monitor “ peace, be still,” and it 
obeyed her. 

With a quick movement of her right hand, as if driv- 
ing away some invisible mist between her and her father, 
she placed it over her heart and quietly began: “Custom 
and precedent stayed my mother at home unkept, and 
crushed and fretted her proud heart until it broke. In the 
agony of her soul I have heard her pray that her daughter 
might be spared from such tyranny; that the environments 
of the coming generation of women might be enlarged; 
that the mildewed customs and cobwebs of dark and brutish 
estimates of life might be swept away; that the light that 
had come into all other dark places might yet beam in the 
darkened and benighted minds of the little leaders of society 
in relation to the sphere of women; that men might be 
made to believe that with more breadth and liberty she 
would still be pure and good ; and that she might yet see 
the blessed hour when the breath of suspicion would not 
cloud her moral sky by following a vocation in life 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


57 


that her powers and capabilities qualified her to do and 
accomplish.” 

She paused for a moment and then continued. “I 
don’t ask any favors because I am a woman; but because 
I am a woman so fathered and so mothered, I demand the 
right to brush away the legal fictions and have a mental sky 
as clear and bright as my powers, my attainments, and am- 
bition can make for me. I challenge you now to put my 
legal attainments to the test, and if I am found wanting 
after I have been weighed in the balance then refuse to 
certify that you think me competent to stand in open court 
for examination, but if I am, do for the love of that angel 
mother whose approval we both covet and hope to have, 
then permit me.’’ 

Judge Bullion would not have been a man, much less a 
father, if he had refused to give her an opportunity to satisfy 
him that she was fully prepared to pass such an examination. 
For five long hours he continued a most searching examination. 
The “Year-books,” Blackstone, and all the English authors 
necessary to a full understanding of the Common Law were 
carefully gone over, as well as all leading American authors 
on all elementary subjects — pleadings, practice, and statutes 
She never once hesitated, she never failed, she seemed to 
have inherited and absorbed his own legal knowledge. He 
stopped, astonished, amazed, overwhelmed, and overjoyed. 

A shade of sadness swept over his face, a tremor in his 
voice as he for the first time gave utterance to his life-long 
disappointment, Julia, if you had only been a boy.’’ 


58 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


She and Ashton were examined in open court and both 
admitted. As they passed from the court room, at the close 
of the examination, the judge met them with satisfaction 
beaming from his eyes. “May you ever be as successful, 
my children.” Judge Bullion had never said “my children ” 
with so much fervor, with so much pride, so much hope. 

The little ripple that had so many years before been 
started by the dropping of a pebble into the waters of life in 
the quiet calm of his morning, promised now to be balanced 
and counteracted, and would never be telling its story along 
every sedgy beach that skirted the farther shores of the after- 
noon of his voyage of life. 

The thing that we dread and fear may come to pass is the 
very thing we try to argue ourselves into thinking and believ- 
ing will never happen. But this looked for, this dreaded 
expected, ever flits across our path — its weird and fantastic 
form though invisible to others is a plain and palpable ghost 
to us — its hot breath hissing through invisible teeth declares 
that it will never down, will ever be ready to quench the 
happiness, the joy, the love, the life, of all that comes in its 
way. 

Judge Bullion was a far-seeing man; indeed, he saw far- 
ther into the future than most men see into the past. He 
saw the danger, the pit-falls, the consequences that must re- 
sult from an intimate association of man and woman, such as 
this partnership would surely bring about between such an 
ardent soul as Ashton possessed, or rather that possessed 
him, and a lovely and attractive woman such as his daughter 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


59 


was. He had set his heart upon her marriage with a distant 
relative, still the only and nearest of kin of the name and 
family of Bullion. 

Fred Bullion, in manners, person, and intellect was 
clearly of his distant uncle’s make-up. He was young, 
handsome, and withal, wealthy, and as much in love with 
Julia as his uncle was with his plans and wishes for his 
daughter’s future. The judge had declared his wishes to 
his daughter, had in so many words told her that it was his 
firm resolve that all his estate should go to Fred if he sur- 
vived him, and if she expected to be benefited by his will 
it must be as the wife of Fred Bullion. The judge was 
Fred’s quasi father, legal adviser, and was interested in a 
great many enterprises with him. This made him a con- 
stant and welcome visitor both at home and office. The 
judge had used all a man’s blundering attempts at tact, or 
rather lack of it, and all his would-be-talent in having his 
daughter see the propriety and eternal fitness of things in 
uniting her hand, heart, and fortunes with Fred. He had 
reasoned as a man, talked as a father, argued as a lawyer, 
and finally as judge had “adjudged, ordered, and decreed” 
that it must be so. 

Fred had so much confidence in the ability of the father 
to bring about all that he had decreed that he gave more 
attention to money making than love making. In his own 
mind he had said there was no need of spending time on a 
“sure thing.” Judge Bullion however had some little ro- 
mance in his soul, and it seemed quite the proper thing that 


60 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Fred should press his own claim for the hand of such a 
woman as Julia, and was considerably nettled at Fred’s 
seeming indifference. The judge therefore bethought him- 
self of the best method to make Fred appreciate the im- 
portance of acting, and cause him to realize that delays are 
dangerous in love affairs as well as in business, politics, and 
religion. He accordingly took the necessary steps to com- 
pass his desired ends. He invited Dr. Arlington to call at 
the office as a professional expert; he had him subpoenaed 
in all important cases where he could be of any service. 
He contrived in every possible way to have Fred see Dr. 
Arlington in company with Julia. He was jubilant to see 
how effective his methods had been, how exactly he had 
calculated. That nothing is so much appreciated, no love- 
liness so lovely, as when by danger’s sweetness and loveli- 
ness surrounded. 

Still another cause had intensified Fred’s desire to bring 
things to a speedy termination. He had need of ready 
money that he knew would go with Julia’s hand. These 
combinations with Ashton in the background and Dr. Ar- 
lington coming in for his share of attention caused him to 
come to a realizing sense of his position. He threw himself 
into the breach; he was surprised, pained, and dismayed 
when his overtures were coolly repelled by the object of 
his desires. 

Like a man attacked in the dark, he felt himself fight- 
ing at a frightful disadvantage ; for he knew not where or 
in what direction to aim his blows; his courage was at a 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


61 


discount, owing to the lack of certain knowledge he pos- 
sessed of the number of his assailants; uncertainty ever giv- 
ing a wide range to the probabilities against him. 

Dr, Arlington was a brilliant and rising young physician, 
of engaging manners, cultured and prepossessing, of good 
family, enjoying a good practice, and would inherit an im- 
mense fortune. He was certainly a formidable rival. And 
what of Ashton? He, too, now for the first time loomed up in 
Fred Bullion’s pathway as he had never before done. “ What 
a fool not to have seen the danger that surrounded me,’’ 
thought Fred. “ He, the partner in her business; the asso- 
ciate in life’s fiercest combats; the sharer in her toils; her 
leader in battles hotly contested ; a participant in her victor- 
ies ; the strong arm that buffets every wave in rescuing the 
legally shipwrecked ; the rear guard never dismayed ; cover- 
ing defeat and battling back a victorious foe.” Surely, here 
was danger, here was suspense, more straining on heart and 
soul than certain knowledge of ruin. This was the perturbed 
state of mind Fred Bullion found himself in at the date of 
Dr. Arlington’s tragic and unexpected taking-off. 


62 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XI 


“ What’s done we may partly compute, 
But know not what’s resisted.” 



'ULIA had several interviews with Ashton in the court 
room while the trial was in progress, but never at the 
jail. She, with the other members of the bar, took 
her last leave of him in the court room at the time sentence 
was pronounced. 

She had previous to this time arranged with the sheriff 
to supply him with such books and papers as he might wish 
to read. She was also granted the privilege of sending him 
a fresh boquet of flowers every morning. 

All books and papers were carefully inspected on being 
admitted to his cell, also on being removed. This prevented 
any correspondence from being carried on between them. 
It was better thus, for thoughts exchanged do not lighten 
burdens when the burdens must be separately borne. 

Julia Bullion was no drivelling sentimentalist; she was 
too good a lawyer for that; she had too much experience 
with judgments and decrees to repine or hope for fate or 
fortune to alter them. 

She bowed submissively, shook off the lingering, forlorn 
hope, and set herself resolutely at work to prepare herself 
against the shock of doom that awaited Ashton and herself. 

The awful tragedy that had been enacted at the office 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


63 


of Bullion, Ashton & Bullion on that fatal November after- 
noon had made it a place of dread and darkness not to be 
habitable by men. They had therefore removed their entire 
office and libraries to the residence of the Bullions. 

The Judge was completely prostrated by the murder 
and consequent trial, conviction and sentence of his partner. 
To him, Ashton was as dear as the apple of his eye. He 
could not believe him guilty, and the thoughts of his execu- 
tion completely overcome him. He could not sufficiently 
recover from the shock to attend to business, and confined 
himself to his private apartments and refused to see his most 
intimate friends. Julia alone was admitted to his presence 
and administered to his every wants. 

She was a woman, tall, stately, and of commanding 
presence. Her hair was brown, just lighted with enough of 
her mother’s golden curls to make it appear as though the 
sun was about to break through its heavy, waving tresses. 
It was brushed back from her brow and caught in a Grecian 
twist low on the back of her head. Her forehead was not 
high, but broad and clear white, pensive, not gloomy, but 
thoughtful; and sometimes sad. Her brows were darker 
than her hair and slightly curved, giving enough archness to 
harmonize with her forehead and lower parts of her face. Her 
eyes, in color, were dark brown, of a bluish tint in repose, 
but deep black when their possessor was in earnest; wide 
apart, very full, and had that liquid brightness that made the 
observer feel that they were about to laugh with joy or weep 
with grief. Her lashes were long and very black, such as 


64 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


one rarely sees other than in childhood. Her nose was of 
the Grecian type, with full nostrils that seemed as sensitive 
to emotion as down to zephyr. Her mouth and chin were of 
exquisite mould; the lower jaw was strong and firm set, in 
exact accord with her forehead. Her lips were sharply defined 
at the edges, full enough for intellectuality, and closed with 
resolute firmness over teeth of beautiful, ivory whiteness, 
clean and shapely. Her complexion was that of the pro- 
nounced blonde, touched with roseate tints that added to its 
freshness and healthy glow. Her form was perfection itself, 
lithe and willowy; her carriage at once easy and graceful, yet 
dignified withal, and that, too, without affectation. Her 
habits of dress were very simple ; she needed no art to com- 
plete her make-up. 

The easiest way to get rid of our load of grief is to help 
others carry their burdens; so thought Julia, and the morn- 
ing after Ashton had been brought for the last time in the 
presence of the court she started out on her mission of love. 
She had no fixed route, but an objective point that she had 
determined to make, and that at all hazards. Her plans were 
all matured; she was ready for action. 

As she left that palatial mansion and walked down the 
driveway that led out to the side gate she traced her way 
in the middle of the broad, smooth, level road, now strewn 
with November leaves; and she could not but look at them 
and think of how so many times she had in her childhood 
gathered October’s scarlet leaves; how joyous then; how 
free her heart had been; how she had searched for the 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


65 


brightest tints; she trampled them carelessly under foot 
now ; their very brightness seemed to suggest that they were 
stained with blood. 

When she reached the street she could not resist the 
temptation to look back over the now-neglected lawn and 
shrubbery; to cast one glance at her own windows with their 
half drawn curtains; and the closed blinds that shut out the 
sunshine from the room that Ashton had for ten years occu- 
pied, She felt her purpose slipping from her; she gave but 
one longing, loving glance, closed her eyes, set her teeth 
hard, clenched her hands, and in the words of Lady Mac- 
beth, “Infirm of purpose,” nerved herself for the work she 
had mapped out for herself. What woman had been able 
to accomplish in a wicked resolve could not she do in the 
paths of honor and right. With this high and firm resolve 
of purpose she set her face as with flint against her emotions 
and walked slowly down the street. She directed her course 
toward that portion of the city where she was most likely to 
meet with want, pinched faces, tattered garments, rags, 
and filth. 

She had been one of the original promoters of the open 
air fund for the purpose of giving the hopelessly poor of the 
tenement houses a few weeks of sunshine and fresh air dur- 
ing the hot summer months. She had always felt an interest 
in that class of unfortunates and knew just where to find the 
miserably poor. She was familiar with the street gamin 
plying his art, gliding softly into open boxes, garbage pits, 
picking up stray bones, half decayed vegetables, and spoiled 
5 


66 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


fruits. She was familiar with him in after years standing at 
the bar wherein justice is done; with hard look, sullen and 
sin-polluted features, gazing into the dark and dismal future, 
heartless, hopeless, friendless, waiting for the open doors ol 
the prison to close behind him and hide him forever in a 
living tomb. 

As she turned off the busy, bustling thoroughfare on to 
a side street whose foot rested on the wharf at the side of 
old ocean, she noticed the difference in appearance, not only 
in the street, buildings, teams, wagons, but faces of men 
and boys; from the scene all hurry and push to the one all 
stagnation and enforced idleness. 

In front of a two-story frame building on the opposite 
side of the street was gathered quite a crowd of men and 
boys. An aged and creaky sign swung from over the door. 
It had the regulation straight upon it of the vicinity, and no 
mistake. A beer glass filled to over-flowing, ‘.‘A schooner 
and one hard-boiled egg for five cents.” There was an out- 
side flight of stairs. A board tacked against the corner of 
the building and projecting out far enough so as to give 
place fora sign had scrawled upon it, “Ladies Entrance, 
Up-Stairs.” 

The crowd on the walk seemed good natured, and were 
holding a sort of out door debating society. A tall, brawny 
fellow, probably forty, was standing with his back against the 
side of the building, between the two windows on the side 
of the door nearest to the stairs. He wore a much-faded 
Scotch cap, some half dozen sizes too small, that hung on 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


67 


the back of his head ; his dark curly hair was sadly neglected 
and gave indications that he might be an iron worker or had 
been exposed to out-door labor. His coat, originally of blue, 
was faded, rust covered and in rags. Vest he had none, and 
the remnant of his shirt and pantaloons seemed to have been 
in service long before he became the wearer of the coat. 
His whiskers, of a dark, brown, were cropped close to his 
face, and despite the hard, dingy appearance they lent their 
owner, he was still a marked and striking man. 

As Julia neared the crossing on the opposite side of 
the street she had a feeling akin to sympathy for that tattered 
and woe-begone crowd. She stopped; something said 
“ What have you in common with that crowd of hoodlums?” 
The answer was ready in her mind, “Misery.’’ Yes, that 
word has made the world of struggling, suffering men 
brothers; banded them together as with hoops of steel; and 
made' each individual heartache, and pain, and groan, and 
tears, the common cause of all, until it has gained battles, 
and oganized governments, established laws and conquered 
a just, lasting and honorable peace, with happiness and 
plenty. Without further controversy with herself she crossed 
the street. 

As she drew near, the crowd that had taken up the en- 
tire way moved as with one common consent close to the 
building to make room for her to pass. She slackened her 
pace as she drew near, she new not why, she had no thought 
of stopping, yet she felt that she could not go by. Her 
practiced eyes and mind began to cast about for some ex- 


68 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


pedient. She noticed the upper sign, “ Ladies Entrance/' 
she cast a glance at the upper window; the shutters had at 
that moment been thrown open at the corner window nearest 
the stairs and a woman’s face half concealed by her falling 
hair and drawn curtain, which she pressed close against her 
cheek, concealed her features so that her most intimate 
friend could not have recognized her. 

Julia took in the situation at once; she had been recog- 
nized by this woman from the time that she had stopped on 
the opposite corner. Had her feeling to join the motley 
crowd been divined by the woman above? She was now 
almost at the foot of the stairs; would she go by? if she did 
she would lose her opportunity to do something, to fulfill a 
yearning desire that had forced her to leave her elegant 
home and go in unfamiliar and wicked portions of one of 
America’s great metropolitan fields of sin and shame. She 
felt the woman’s beaming eyes upon her; she glanced up; 
it was her last chance; their eyes met, was it recognition? 
She had formed the resolution, and that meant performance 
with her. She suited the action to the word, and the next 
moment found her climbing the stairs. Open-mouthed won- 
der was written in every face in that gaping crowd, but there 
were no leers, jeers, or ogling; all of them were simply awe- 
struck and dumb. Such a woman in such a place, was 
written on every face. They looked from one to the other. 
“She knew the place,” seemed to be about the conclusion 
they arrived at finally. Then, as if impressed with holy 
awe, with one accord they tacitly agreed, that angels do 
come earthward as of old. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


69 


She was on the landing above ; the door opened before 
she could lift the latch. She stepped inside with a feeling of 
relief. No two women ever faced each other with more 
amazement and surprise. The one in loose wrapper was the 
first to speak. “Oh, Julia! how could you?” Julia ex- 
tended her hand. The other folded her arms across her 
heaving breast and shrank back as though she herself was 
pollution ; her face ashy pale and almost gasping for breath. 
When she had sufficiently composed herself that she dared 
to trust herself to speak — in words stifled with emotion — 
she broke forth, ‘ 4 Don’t come near me, don’t touch me.” 
She made a motion with her hand and eyes, directing Julia 
to a seat on a sofa, her arms still tightly folded on her heaving 
bosom. Julia did as she was directed and sank, rather than 
sat, on the sofa. Her quick mind took in the situation at a 
glante. As she looked at the woman still standing as if 
rooted to the floor, hot tears chased others down her cheeks 
in rapid succession. 

Tears! what are tears? The babe weeps in its cot, 

The mother singing; at her marriage bell 
The bride weeps; and before the oracle 
Of high-famed hills, the poet has forgot 

Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace. 

Ye who weep only! If, as some have done, 

Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place, 

And touch but tombs look up! Those tears will run 
Soon in long rivers down the lifted face, 

And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.” 

The nameless woman’s eyes were dry as flint; the foun- 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


tain of her tears was as a cloud that had outwept its rain ; 
her tears had been scorched and consumed long ago by the 
fierce fires of her burning shame and all-devouring grief. 

It was the meeting across the chasm of the awful abyss, 
from whose endless deeps there arose the recollections of 
tears, and groans, and heartaches, the dust and ashes of the 
burnt-out chambers of the mind and soul; the fierce fires of 
an all-consuming pain, not of fleshy heart, not of body, but 
of mind; before which the pains of the rack, the thumb- 
screw, the whip, the cross, the scourge, the stake, pale into 
nothingness and insignificance. It was the invisible inef- 
fable, devouring flame, not of conscience, but of conscious- 
ness, that notice which the mind takes of itself. Not en- 
lightened conscience, that grows, expands, enlarges, quickens 
and leaps up into a living fire to light the paths of truth, 
virtue, and goodness, but that relict of barbarism that befogs, 
bewilders, that tortures, that belabors with fiendish delight; 
that night-mare that weighs down and depresses; that unde- 
finable dread that sees an enemy in every blade of grass; 
that turns away from every budding flower; that is mocked 
by every spotless animated or inanimated object; that turns 
the mind into a mirror to show its own spots and blemishes 
and infamy. Not the consciousness of guilt, but the con- 
sciousness of dread. Oh, that terrible thing, that ghost of 
a woman’s ideal confronting her! That legal fiction that de- 
clares that the contact, that the union of mind and body of 
the man and woman to be a crime, unless that crime be 
changed into an act of holy sanction by being continued for 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


71 


life! Hideous doctrine, monstrous, and all the more so be- 
cause it is backed by custom, prejudice, and precedent that 
lays hold on God. 

The whole life of that fallen woman seemed shrieking 
in her mind, struggling to be heard, to be recounted. She 
turned and closed the door for fear the very air would pro- 
claim it to the world. Her first thought, feeling was, “ have 
you come to trouble us before our time ; have you come to 
mock us with your purity*; have you come to make us feel 
how terribly we are fallen?” 

“ Both guns and swords are strong, no doubt, 

And so are tongue and pen; 

And so are sheaves of good bank notes, 

To sway the souls of men; 

But guns, and swords, and gold, and thought, 

Though mighty in their sphere, 

Are sometimes feebler than a smile, 

And poorer than a tear.” 

Julia’s tears had been more eloquent than words, “had 
pleaded like angels, trumpet tongued,” had swept away all 
barriers. The past was spread out before them both as a 
corpse of some loved one, dear to each heart. Their recol- 
lections of tenderness and love clasped hands over the abyss; 
if there had been any prudery, any of the “holier than 
thou” feeling floating in that atmosphere it soon found that 
there was no place for it in either woman’s heart, and it 
skulked away and hid itself in the gloom of sombre, self- 
satisfied, pretentiousness. They two were girls again. Both 
their hearts had been crushed by great sorrow, they were 


72 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


now sisters on the level plain of strong feeling that knows 
no superior, that recognizes all the world as kin. 

“ Mary! ” If that word had come from the speechless 
lips of the voiceless dead, from the tongueless past, it could 
not have so startled her. It brought back the far-off memory 
of her childhood, nameless evermore. Its notes filled her, 
thrilled her, as with the rushing flood of years; like the 
billowy waves of old ocean drawn thither by the far-off 
subtle influences of the pale-faced moon; so now her feelings 
piled and heaped against the whited sepulchre of her ruined 
and wasted life and rolled far out into the shoreless eternity, 
blackened and gathering blackness evermore from infinite 
gloom, sombre memories, and hopeless despair. No light, 
no hope, no peace ; it was the wail from the abyss, from the 
unreplying lips of a grief-stricken mother; it went moaning 
ever down the long, deep corridors of infinite misery, 
“Mary!” “Mary!” “Mary!” 

At the sound of that name the grief-stricken woman 
had fallen prostrate at Julia’s feet. Mingled with her sobs, 
she cried, “ O take me home to my mother.” Mother, 
enchanted name! Mother, dead , because forsooth, Mary’s 
love for another had not been labeled “ married.” 

The great deeps of their woman’s natures were now 
broken up and flowed together in mingled tears. Julia raised 
her up gently and held her against her bosom until her sobs 
and tears had spent their force and cleared her vision for stars 
and sun. It was such a sight as the canting, hypocritical 
world might have viewed with infinite benefit. If this one 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


73 


pure and good woman was not defiled with the touch of her 
fallen sister, why then society must needs gather up its 
angelic robes and rush by the fallen and ruined and sin- 
cursed? 

That sobbing bundle of misery, once a child, once a 
woman ; now a black and festering interrogation point, that 
constantly asked a burning question ; that had a begin- 
ning in the past; filled the present; and projected itself into 
the future like concentrated gloom into bright light — thus 
she began — “I was so happy then, he — ” Oh, that mystic 
word! It stands at the threshold of woman’s opening 
life; darkens every passage-way; illumines every untried 
path; besmirches every bright picture; despoils every virtue; 
and writes pain and misery on every page of her life; and 
stands at the end of every thought as the outstretched cross 
upon which is crucified her hope, her happiness, her love, 
her life — “he was so noble, so good, so true, so heroically 
grand, my hope, my light, my love, my Harry. He was 
denied the house. I was told that I must not see him ; he 
was not of our class. He despised ‘clandestine,’ he ab- 
horred ‘elope.’ He was the soul of honor. He would see 
my father. He would claim his own from him. I begged, 
I entreated, I implored. I knew my father, he did not. I 
saw him coming down the front gravel walk from my window. 
I heard father storming in the hall. The moment Harry put 
his hand on the bell-knob the door opened before he had 
time to pull the bell. Without a second’s warning and father 
had dealt him a murderous blow in the face. He rolled 


74 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


down the stone steps in a heap, and before he could collect 
his senses; before he could regain his feet, he was covered 
with blows and kicks by my enraged father. Why? Not 
because he loved me so much as because I loved him. I 
screamed. Father left him and turned his attention to me.’' 

She covered her face with her hands, as if trying to 
shield her eyes from the memory of that scene, to drive 
away the recollection of that moment and what followed. 

“Father rushed into the hall, closed the door behind 
him, and mounted the stairs; I met him on the landing 
above; his face was livid with rage and passion. I lifted 
both my hands; I shrieked, kill me as you have murdered 
my hope! my life!” She gasped, choked, struggled, struck 
out with one hand as if for battle, and held up the other as 
if for defense. “ He did all that I asked of him and more; 
he murdered my mind, despoiled my soul, blackened my 
virtue, and chastity and purity, and hung them as a dead 
corpse about my living neck of this suffering body.’’ 

Her hands clutched convulsively in her paroxysm of 
grief as if feeling for that other, better, dearer dead self. 
“ O why did he say it?” “ If I could only efface that word 
from my soul ; if I could only cease to feel its very burnings 
every day gnawing deeper and deeper into my mind.” 

“O how I have struggled against its every letter. I 
have bathed that ‘ w ’ with tears until I thought it had been 
washed away. I have covered that ‘ h ’ with the dust and 
ashes of dear Harry’s life blood. I have blotted that ‘o’ 
with the ceaseless moan from then until now. I have piled 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


75 


on that ‘ r ’ all the rage, and revenge, and pride of my soul. 
I have hidden that ‘ e ’ with everlasting sorrow, and flung 
over the whole, the ensanguined years of my life and heart’s 
blood ; and through it all, it shrieks, and screams, and howls, 
and moans.” 

“He pushed me rudely back into my room as he ut- 
tered that awful word. I had met him as innocent as when 
first I lay upon my mother’s white bosom an unconscious 
babe. I sank down on the floor of my room ; the other aw- 
ful thing he had transformed me into by that frightful, un- 
called for, undeserved, untruthful, unfatherly, and awful 
imprecation; and not all the rain in the sweet heavens can 
again make my mind and soul as white as snow.’’ 

“O that frightful question-mark that forever links the 
bright inane of the past with the black inane of the future. 
Why? why? why?” 

The storm had spent its force; she lay in Julia’s arms, 
limp, helpless, and almost lifeless, like the child that has 
been rescued from the jaws of a wild beast. It was the first 
time in all these years that she had had an opportunity to 
vindicate herself before the august tribunal of an unsullied 
woman’s presence. 

Because woman fears woman as she does not fear God, 
makes woman unto woman law; for what is law but fear? 
She felt from the loving, tender embrace of Julia’s strong, 
sympathetic arms the nature of the verdict; there was no 
need to wait for that cant of conspirators to pronounce pro 
forma , “not guilty.” She looked up into Julia’s face, both 


76 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


women half smiled through their tears. “ How like mother’s 
arms yours feel.” She arose, drew an ottoman near Julia s 
feet, and with a look of infinite longing that meant, “Can 
I,” waited for permission that came instantly from sympa- 
thetic eyes, “Yes, if you want to.” 

It is not often that the world stops long enough to hear 
the story of a prejudged and precondemned woman; will it 
listen now? If not, close this book and pronounce the 
anathema upon both book and author. 

“It was more than three months before I had an op- 
portunity to have a word with Harry. I could not write 
him, I could not tell him how I had been treated ; but I did 
tell him that I must flee from that unholy place. His look 
was one of mingled hope, joy, and sadness. He made the 
necessary arrangements, furnished me a room in a secluded 
and quiet part of the city. I stole out my best apparel and 
a few needed things, and in the early night of June, when a 
heavy rain was falling, called a cab and went to the place 
designated by Harry. In order that I might not be followed 
and traced by my father, I had quietly removed my trunk 
to the house of a friend and the cabman had taken me from 
tfiere to my destination, dressed in a suit of Harry’s clothes.” 

“At the appointed hour, Harry came; it was bitter- 
sweet; it was heaven seasoned with sulphurous rifts. It was 
a strange commingling of life and death. It was hope 
blackened with despair. I told him everything. I told him 
of that awful accusation. He arose and with clenched hands 
vowed vengeance. While I was horror-stricken, I gloated 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


77 


over the thought of vengeance even against my own father. 
He held me long in his tender embrace; he moiled my face 
with many clinging kisses and tears. It was so sweet, so full 
of despair. I continued thus for some three months, sus- 
pended between hope and dread, until one night in the latter 
part of September a fierce bang at the door startled me ; it 
was followed by the heavy weight of an officer thrown against 
it, and in he strode, my father behind him. 

He rushed by the officer the moment that he caught 
sight of me, placed his hands rudely on my shoulders and 
looked fiercely, savagely in my face, and demanded of me the 
keys to my room ; the whereabouts of my destroyer. I 
looked him calmly, and coolly, in the face; I felt no terrors 
then ; I said in words as unconcernedly as I ever addressed 
him, * my keys are in the drawer there, and my destroyer 
now has his hands upon my shoulders.’ ‘Liar’ hissed 
through his firm set teeth, his hot breath fairly scorching 
my cheek. My only reply, ‘ be it so, then.” ’ 

“He relaxed his hold; bade me get the keys, ordered 
the officer to take me in charge. We three then left the 
room. My father stopped to make some investigation; I 
asked the officer’s permission to join him. He complied 
with my request. I ascended to the room that we had just 
left, it being on the second floor of the building; saw my 
father rummaging through my trunk. I slipped by the 
door, passed down the back way, out the side gate into the 
alley, and ran to a house in the near neighborhood; the 
occupants I had come to know; and in five minutes was on 
my way to the depot.’’ 


78 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ Harry, fortunately, had supplied me with money that 
day; and I took the first train for C — . The people whose 
acquaintance I had made had furnished me the necessary 
information and directions so minutely that I was enabled 
to find the location in the city of C — .without making any 
inquiry and unobserved. I knew nothing of the character 
of the house they had directed me to, all I knew was that 
it was a nice quiet place. I was asked if I would ‘ see com- 
pany, ’ or would I board?” It seemed all innocent enough, 
but I found that ‘ see company ’ meant the terrors of the 
damned, that I had never dreamed of in all my life. 

“I said I would board.” “ Who was my friend?’’ or 
“did I have money?” “I said I had money, and that my 
friend would shortly visit me.” The next day I learned the 
character of the house ; and then that awful word fixed itself 
on my person; its lodgment in my mind now made it 
visible on my clothes and seemed burned into my cheeks. 

“ I immediately wrote Harry and implored him to take 
me away. He came, we went through the agony of another 
meeting. I begged him make overtures with my mother; 
he then told me that my mother had heard of my flight 
and — that she died with my name on her lips.’’ 

“ This prostrated me and for four weeks Harry stood by 
my bedside and watched over me. The character of the 
place, the physician and the circumstances gave room for 
gossip and slander, and calumny; and every zephyr seemed 
to say I had gone there because of the interesting condition 
I was supposed to be in. This dreadful situation, and un- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


79 


truthful story soon reached the ears of my father, as well 
as Harry’s people, and he was driven from home.” 

“What was I to do? No home, no friends, no food, 
no clothing, no money; Harry as destitute as myself, and 
out of employment. I in a house of shame and sin, where 
was I to go, what was I to do? O after all these years of 
sin and shame it makes me shudder still! ” 

“ I fought with the demons that came to my room for 
wicked purposes; I could do nothing; I could not get away; 
my only clothing was now owned by the landlady, and were 
locked up. Harry was at the home of a friend prostrated 
with fever as a result of his long vigil, and I was helpless. 
Words can not tell the terrors of such a place and such a 
life. I was still as pure as the new born babe; I did not 
fall; I was crushed and beaten into submission and subjected 
to the will and passions of. the incarnate fiends' that fre- 
quented this earthly hell.” 

“ Harry recovered, he came to my rescue; took me to 
a distant relative of his that lived in the country. I re- 
mained there until that breath of slander and calumny 
reached me, and then these good people were compelled to 
send me away. Harry was so overcome with this new dis- 
aster that he fell a prey to consumption; his people took 
pity on him and allowed him to return to their roof, where, 
after lingering for a short time, he died. Then I was alone 
in this awfully wicked world.” 

“I returned to this city; I sought employment in the 
‘ Woman’s Exchange.’ They gave me work in their dining 


80 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


room ; this kept soul and body together until the fiends who 
had known of my life of enforced sin informed on me. The 
president of this goodly institution of charity — a kindly 
Christian lady — called me to her one day and addressing 
me by the name that I had assumed, said : ‘ Laura, we will 
be obliged to dispense with your services.’ With hot burn- 
ing, scalding tears running down my cheeks, I inquired the 
reason. She said, ‘you know why.’ I implored her, I 
asked if I had not done my work well; if I did not deport 
myself as a lady in their dining room? She coolly said: 
‘Yes, that is- all true enough, but you must go.’ On my 
bended knees I begged of her not to send me away. ‘Yes/ 
said she, ‘but you must.’ O wh}'? said I. ‘Because it 
will ruin our business if we keep you.’ All for sweet char- 
ity’s sake they sent me away.” 

“ One of the patrons of the Exchange saw me as I left 
the place; he followed me and inquired the cause of my 
pained look. I told him I was no longer wanted, and had 
nowhere to go, or nothing to do. He put a ten dollar bill 
in my hand and asked me if he could call at my room in the 
evening; I consented. He called that evening. He ap- 
peared surprised on finding me so meanly quartered. The 
next evening he called again, and asked me to take a walk. 

I did so, for I saw no harm in affording a gentleman the 
pleasure of my company when he had given me assistance 
when sweet charity refused me the privilege of working for 
my bread. He took me to a suit of elegant rooms in a 
quiet part of the city, at the other end of this very street. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


81 


He insisted on my taking up my abode there; he furnished 
me with everything I could want. After a short time he 
made bold his designs; I repelled him tor six long months. 
I begged him to furnish me some honorable employment, 
that I might make ample returns for the money he was lav- 
ishing upon me; but to no purpose. Finally he commanded 
me ; then I threatened to expose him. With a wicked leer 
on his face and pointing his finger at me in scorn and de- 
rision, said: ‘You here for six months, ostensibly as my 
mistress, who would believe you?’ I was conquered. I 
submitted.” 

She stopped, buried her face in her hands and amid 
suppressed sobs and groans cried out in the agony of her 
soul, “May God Almighty consume such infamy in the 
brightness of His coming.” “ O why don’t God permit me 
to end this terrible existence that I may be free from this 
remembrance of such a life? O the wickedness of this 
cruel, cruel world.” 

“The descent was gradual at first; it became more 
rapid as the time wore on. The biter began to realize that 
the bitten had fangs. The betrayed put the boot on the 
other foot; father, slander, friends, and Christian charity had 
done their work; it was complete. Men were willing to 
lavish money on me for their gratification ; not for my re- 
storation ; I began to forget my grief, and pain, and retaliate 
on them ; I have fully glutted my vengeance. I have not 
only wrung their sheckles from them, but I have wrung 
their hearts as well. They have trampled me under their 
6 


82 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


feet, but many is the one who has humbled himself at mine 
and paid dearly to be shrived.” 

“O Julia, do you wonder then that we should strike 
back at society that has driven us to these straits? Do 
you blame us for the lives we are compelled to lead? So- 
ciety has turned out the finished articles, ready for the 
tread-mill, the scourge, the jail, the grave. It has poisoned 
our minds; painted our faces; it has stamped on us the 
trade mark of the hardened criminal; it has enforced desper- 
ation on us and then labeled it perverseness ; natures with 
evil tendencies: it has continued its persecution until we are 
maddened, and see in every face the purposes of the fiend, 
it has denominated our wretchedness, frenzy brought on by 
dissipation, when in fact it is hallucination. And when 
hallucination holds the torch which lights the road to murder, 
infanticide, to all that is abnormal and perverse it says, 

‘ behold to what depths woman can fall? 

She had finished. She took both of Julia’s hands in her 
own, and looking up into her face, said, “ Forgive me, Julia, 
for thus intruding the disgusting detail of my sinful life upon 
you, who never knew an evil thought.’’ 

Julia leaned forward and kissed her. “It is I that will 
rather thank you for what you have told me ; not from any 
selfish motive, but if for nothing else I could most heartily 
thank you for that, for while you have been talking I have 
forgotten my pain ; but that is only selfishness, but I thank 
you for your own sake. I have learned how much of the 
woman there is in you for all that society has robbed you of. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


83 


I thank you for another who is now languishing in a felon’s 
cell.” 

Mary’s own suffering made her quick to feel another’s 
woe. “Let me help you,” said Mary. “Oh, that you 
could!” said Julia. 

“But name it and I will go the end of the earth for 
you.” 

Again the unexpected happened. For awhile they 
forgot their troubles and talked of other days — school, 
class-mates, and then the real friends of that joyous girlhood 
never to be forgotten. 

There was Kate, ah, “My Kate,” Mrs. Browning’s 
“My Kate,” and Bess, and Ruth, and Mollie, and on 
through the list. 

“ How Kate did dream and dote,” said Julia. 

u How oft,” said Mary, “have we staid at her feet while 
she read in her rich, sweet tones, ‘ My Heart and I,’ ‘My 
Kate,’ ‘Mother and Poet.’” 

“Yes,” murmured Julia, half forgetful of herself: 

“Dead! one of them shot by the sea in the east, 

And one of them shot in the west by the sea. 

Dead! both my boys!” 

“How often I think of her. I fancy now that I can 
hear her tremulous tones, and the deep pathos she could put 
in that stanza: ” 

“What art can a woman be good at? Oh vain! 

What art is she good at, but hurting her breast 

With the milk-teeth of babes, and a smile at the pain?” 

“ Sweet, lovely Kate, I wonder what has become of her? 


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The last I heard of her she was married, married some fore- 
man in some large manufacturing establishment in Connecti- 
cut.” 

There was a far-away look in Mary’s eyes, then she 
turned to Julia and said, “ Would you like to know where 
she is now? ” 

“Certainly.” 

“ Well, listen; do you hear that deep, bass voice down 
there?” 

“Ido.” 

“ Well, that is Kate’s husband.” 

“What name, please?” 

“I never heard it, he goes by the name of * Jaw-smith 
Jim.”’ 

“ What does he do ? ” Mary had unconsciously dropped 
into the manner of her associates in her form of speech, 
and without turning her head replied; “punishes whisky 
when he gets it and feeds his pals wind puddings the balance 
of the time ; and when that gets monotonous he entertains 
and amuses himself at the tenement house you see over 
yonder — pointing through the half open shutter — beating 
Kate and the brats.” Julia stared in open-mouthed wonder, 
“Tenement house, does Kate live in a tenement house, 
Mary?” 

“That’s what I said. That’s what he does, and there 
is where he keeps her, or rather allows her to starve.” 

“ Beats that woman ? ” said Julia. 

“ Well, I should smile.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


85 


“ And starves her, did you say? ” 

“ Yes, and that don’t half express it.” 

There was the sound of a woman’s voice on the street 
below. ‘‘Listen, Julia, that’s Kate now, she wanted him to 
go, hear her pleading tones, hear that baby’s faint cry, poor 
thing, poor, poor Kate. My lot is hard enough Julia, O it 
is terrible, but it is a paradise compared to hers.” 

Julia looked the very picture of blank amazement, 
4t Why, Mary? ” 

“ It may sound strange to you, Julia, but, but, — that’s 
what.” 

Julia repeated the words “that’s what” mechanically. 
“ What do you mean by ‘ that’s what? ’ ” 

“ I mean said Mary, ‘that’s what,’ ‘that’s what I say,’ 
I prefer my life to hers.” 

“ O Mary, can it be possible?” 

“Look! there she goes; one, two, three, four, and two 
more at the house — hell, you may say — over there. There’s 
misery for you, that throws this in the shadow so far, that 
you will never think of my hard lot. Yes, I am miserable, 
but her lot is misery personified — it is damnation on earth.” 

“ There are seven floors, some three hundred and fifty 
rooms, as many as six persons in each room, twenty-one 
hundred living wretches in that place. I’ve been there, I 
give Kate as much as I can afford, poor thing. When I 
think of her, when I see her in one small, bare room, 
no fire, no lights, no beds, no furniture of any kind, no 
carpets, nothing, nothing only straw, vermin, reeking with 


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filth, a six-month-old baby tugging at her bleeding breast, 
and she unable to sit up and hold it from sheer exhaustion 
and inanation, while another, one year older, crying on one 
side of her, and a third but three years old, chewing its 
finger-nails to the quick, and a fourth but four years old, 
with nothing to cover its poor, naked, shivering body but 
a part of an old calico dress, and two others of seven and 
eight, no better clad, and two starved memories, with their 
pinched faces ever haunting her — I say my life, as miser- 
able and terrible, and loathing as it is, is a paradise to hers.” 

“I suffer, I have experienced all the torments of mind 
that any woman can suffer on her own account v — her face 
flushed deeply — “I know what it is to be a mother; and I 
tell you, Julia, if my only child was thus fathered and moth- 
ered, and housed, and clothed, and starved, it would drive 
me mad.” 

“ Kate has tried to tell me, poor thing, but words can’t 
express it. “You,’* said she, “can shut your door in men’s 
faces, I am chained to this monster; you are looked upon as 
a criminal, I am a legalized victim ; I scream, and plead, 
and struggle, 'and fight, and pray, in my despair, but there 
is no relief for me.” 

It was too shocking to talk about or to listen to. Both 
women were silent, the one just thinking of her own days 
of innocence, of light and love; the other stood on the 
border- land of a world of woe, tip-toeing, watching, longing 
for one faint gleam of the long-ago joy that comes from a 
life of purity. 


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87 


“ Hurting her breast 
With the milk teeth of babes, and a 
Smile at the pain.” 

said Julia musingly. “ Awful, awful thought. Kate Hamil- 
ton come to this, so bright, so beautiful, so cultured, so re- 
fined, so everything that enters into and makes up the full 
and rounded woman.” 

Then laying her hand on that of Mary’s, that had found 
its way, half unconsciously, half instinctively, because it 
wanted to just touch the hem of the garment of purity on 
her knee. “You must tell me all about this, Mary, not 
because of any morbid curiosity, but because I must go and 
see her and administer to her wants.’’ Mary’s eyes filled 
with tears as she looked into Julia’s face. Placing her other 
hand on that of Julia’s, the great crystal drops flowed down 
over her cheeks like rain. “ You are an angel, Julia. ” 

“ No, no, my dear!” 

*' Poor race of men!” said the pitying spirit, 

“ Dearly ye pay for your primal fall; 

Some flow’rets of Eden ye still inherit, 

But the trail of the serpent is over them all!” 

“ You was about to tell me of Kate,” said Julia. 

‘‘This is the story as near as I can recollect; Kate first 
met him at some charity entertainment; he had been sent 
there by his firm to superintend the construction of a sort of 
temporary stage, or arrange its scenic effect; he was a sort 
of dramatic art critic, amateur artist, and all that thing. He 
recited poetry in a low, musical tone to himself-like, while 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


he worked, from Mrs. Browning’s Sonnets from the Portu- 
guese, you remember the lines: 

‘Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand 
Hence forward in thy shadow.* 

“Well, poor Kate was captivated. She began, in her 
eyes, an unholy acquaintance. It was clandestine from the 
beginning, but his voice, manner, looks and dress, stole her 
heart away, haunted her day and night. She dared not see 
him, of course, she, the daughter of a millionaire banker 
would not be allowed to tolerate the foreman of shops, even 
though he knew poetry and had a penchant for scenic effect. 
She kept up a correspondence for a year, then met him by 
appointment, then fell madly in love with him, and finally 
eloped with him. Married him. Banished herself from 
home — from a paradise, so to speak. Her father was quite 
old, as you remember, when he came to see her graduate; 
how tenderly he held her in his. arms when she ran to him 
after the degrees were conferred; poor, old man. Kate’s 
elopement killed him. He left no will. His two sons were 
both older than she, both were married and partners with 
their father in the bank; they took possession of everything. 
They were also stockholders in the manufacturing concern 
where Kate’s husband worked. They had him discharged. 
They did everything they could to ruin him. They gave 
out that their sister was dead. Yes, and it was only too 
true, she was dead, absolutely dead to every thing and place 
and friend she had known. 

“ Some two years ago when she went to the bank and im- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


89 


plored of her brothers, for the sake of her starving children, 
sufficient to keep them alive, they said they had no sister, 
that she was dead. That the date of her death was a thing 
well known, and could be seen by reference to their father’s 
monument. And, as true as heaven, Julia, it is the very 
date of her elopement They had their porter evict her from 
the bank as an imposter, a cheat and female fraud. 

“ But, to go back, the story is but the oft-repeated one of 
unbridled passion and lust on the one side, and submission 
on the other. She had mistaken him for a man of soul, and 
heart, and sentiment, and culture, a love for the beautiful, 
the true, the good ; she awoke to find how sadly different 
the real facts were from that happy dream, to find that he 
was only a caricature on humanity, a beast, a fiend in human 
form, only the semblance of a man. 

“ If the fashioner of men should ever give a visible mani- 
festation of himself to the world, his first duty to the human 
family would be to apologize for his part in the creation and 
existence of such creatures; and secondly, to place the 
mark of their beastliness in unmistakable characters so 
conspicuously on them, that even blind love could not be 
victimized. 

But she had been snared, she was his prey, she was his 
opportunity, see? How do those lines run? It has been so 
long,” a shade of sadness crossed her face. “ Oh, yes,” 

‘ How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 
makes ill deeds done.’ 

“How often the opportunity, the right so to speak to 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


outrage such a creature is being done in the name of decency 
and holy matrimony.” Julia’s face wore a pained expres- 
sion. “ Pardon me, my dear, but I can’t help it.” 

“ No offense, Mary, but the truth of the fact is so pain- 
ful and so apparent, and yet we go on prating about the 
glorious freedom of our sex, as though we had all there was 
in this world worth living for.” 

“ They took a cottage, furnished it artistically for 
awhile; he found employment in different places where his 
aptness and skill were known. They lived happily and 
moderately; their first child was born in nine months and 
ten days after the marriage, and in five years they had five 
more. 

“They had given up the cottage after the second year. 
They were obliged to sell the best of their furniture; the 
more children the less to eat, to drink, and to wear. Kate 
began to take in fine sewing. He was out of employment 
when the third child was born. He spent the product of her 
labor for blue ruin. From cottage to rooms, from rooms 
to single apartments, from single apartments to tenement 
house, where they now are.’’ 

There was a moment’s pause. Julia took a small note- 
book from her pocket. “Can you give me the number ?’’ 
a You see the place from here, ’ ’ said Mary. ‘ ‘Stop at the cor- 
ner where I first saw and recognized you, go down that street 
two squares, where you will see the end of the building; 
go to the rear of it, up to the top floor, the seventh ; down 
the entire length of the hall, last door on the right-hand 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


91 


corner; that’s Kate’s.” From palace to hovel, to living 
death. 

Mary began to think of herself, the time, the clock on 
the mantel had been industrious and plodding on unnoticed, 
but it was four p. m. all the same. 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XII. 


“ Misery loves company.” 

“In small proportions we just beauties see; 
And in short measures life may perfect be.” 



interview was at an end, Julia arose as if to go. 


Mary looking at her said, “ You are tired, allow me ” — 
the words died on her lips — she was about to say, “ al- 
low me to offer some refreshments.” Julia had called upon her, 
it was purest accident, of course, but she had allowed her to 
sit at her feet, had kissed her, had taken her hand, had wept 
with her, that was the limit. It was not Julia who was making 
the wretched woman feel the chasm between them, she was 
her own accuser. To ask Julia to eat of the bread of sin was 
too much. The whole of her life came back in an instant. 
What was she to do? In her own house, her heart going 
out in all its old love for the friend of her youth, all her sym- 
pathies aroused for Julia in her distress. Mary’s quick eye 
had seen and detected the strong emotions and effort Julia 
was making to compose herself. There was that expression 
in her visitor’s face that indicated sleepless nights, stifled 
moans, hope struggling against dispair. Mary had taken a 
deep interest in the trial of John Ashton, she was in a posi- 
tion to appreciate the crushing force of circumstances when 
backed by the power and might of customs and precedent. 
She was also conscious that Julia’s visit to this section of sin 
was simply an escape valve to her pent up feelings. She 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


93 


thought she half divined the purpose — her mind was in the 
habit of running circumstances into conversations, setting the 
one off against the other, getting them into a fire of what in 
their girlhood days, they denominated cross-questions and 
crooked answers — for which Julia had done such an extra- 
ordinary thing. It was not by any process of reasoning that 
she had arrived at the point she had reached ; it was not 
what men call a woman’s way of jumping at: a conclusion, it 
was not intuition — another name for reason — carried along 
by the fleet-footed messenger of woman’s quicker passion, 
quicker feeling, that outstrips man’s sluggishness, which he 
has been pleased to call his powerful, slow-going reason, no, 
it was her own misery that had sent the plummet down into 
the depth’s of Julia’s heart and mind, and found a response 
there. She knew from their wide difference in life’s condi- 
tions, that only one thing could make them kin. 

She knew that if she was to be of any aid to Julia in 
her hour of supreme distress, that the proposal must come 
from her; she had decided. “Julia, pardon me, I am about 
to speak of the other side of this picture; I know that 
the gulf that divides you from me would not be crossed by 
either of us if it were not for some very extraordinary 
cause.” She paused, lifted her hand to her eyes, for she 
saw the pained expression on Julia’s beautiful face, I am not 
about to mock you, for I have suffered too, too much to be 
thoughtless of another’s pain. If the occasion was less 
than life and death I would not ask permission to come to 
your relief. I know all your troubles, I know the circum- 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


stances have crushed and blotted out the truth; but I be- 
lieve as firmly as you do that John Ashton is an innocent 
man ! 

The scene had now changed; Julia Bullion was now look- 
ing into streaming eyes that sympathized with her in a grief 
that was too terrible for tears. “ Misery/’ oh, thou great 
reconciler, thou maketh us to repent, not of good, generous, 
charitable thoughts; not of tender words; not of humane 
feelings; not of the helping hands extended to our yoke-fel- 
lows in distress! When thou seest fit to lay thy heavy hand 
upon us, it resteth not upon these bright spots in our memo- 
ries; thou blotteth out not these oases in our hearts; thou 

maketh us rather to behold the stone and the dart that hath 

/ 

been hurled by us in our wrath at some sorrowing soul ; thou 
maketh us to feel the thorn that we have placed in the pillow 
that would otherwise have been comfortable to some sorrow- 
stricken head but for our unrelenting hands, so swift to pun- 
ish, and so slow to do good ; thou maketh us to realize in thy 
presence that it is not our mercy and tenderness that we re- 
pent of, but our vindictiveness and vengeance. 

Julia sat on the ottoman at Mary’s feet. The ‘ ‘shriven” 
had now become “ the father confessor.” “Oh, Mary!” she 
broke forth, “ your tears are the first that have been shed for 
that poor, poor, unfortunate man. ” Mary’s tears of sympathy 
had been the key that unlocked the sealed fountain of her grief, 
and for the first time since that awful tragedy she wept. She 
buried her face in Mary’s lap and wept bitterly and long. 
There was no attempt on Mary’s part to check that flood of 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


95 


tears; her crushed and bleeding heart had been too intimately 
acquainted with grief not to know what relief would come to 
her surcharged feelings by this outpouring of tears. 

The conversation that followed was long and earnest. 
Julia unfolded her plans and disclosed all that she hoped to 
gain, if she could only succeed in her projected schemes, 
if all did not fail in the crucial test, if every thing did not 
waste away in the hour of trial, then Mary could be of im- 
mense service and aid to her. They consulted as to the best 
methods, if once the sinking ship could be reached, Julia’s 
quick and trained mind suggested, Mary’s knowledge made 
possible. 

When they had canvassed the ground thoroughly, Julia 
arose to go. Mary made bold to put her arms around her 
waist, as she had so many times done in years gone by, 
forgive me, Julia, but it is so good just to let my poor head 
rest for one minute on your shoulder, for then my past life is 
gone for one moment, heaven and earth are so very 
near, they have in fact met. Just then there was a gentle 
rap at the side door — Madame, your tea is waiting. Still 
hiding her burning face, with trembling voice it would do 
me so much good, would you, O could you Julia” — but 
the words died on her lips — “no, no, I can’t offer you the 
cup of sin.” Julia divined her thought, pressing the lovely 
head against her own bleeding heart, “yes, Mary I can, 
j w iii t — I feel so faint, a cup of tea will do me so much 
good.’’ “O thank you.” 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XIII 


“ Poverty is the only load which is the heavier, the more loved ones 
there are to assist in supporting it.” 


“ Men think it an awful sight 
To see a soul just set adrift 
On that drear voyage from whose night 
The ominous shadows never lift; 

But it is more awful to behold 
A helpless infant newly born, 

Whose little hands unconscious hold 
The keys of darkness and of morn.” 



O be rich is to be unhappy sometimes, but to be poor 
is to be miserable always. The one is to be ‘‘on 
the ground floor ’’ of society; the other to be “in 
the hole.” To be uncaught is not always to be unpunished, 
any more than that things are not always what they seem. 
Suspicion is often conviction, but the real difference appears 
only by the place occupied. “ On the ground floor? ” “In 
the hole? ” 


“On the ground floor,” that is advantage, that is your 
foot on your brother’s neck, that is do as you like, regard- 
less, that is ‘‘on top,” that is “success,” that is the oppo- 
site of “in the hole . v The below is “ the under dog in the 
fight,” is in the basement, is the dungeon proper, that is 
“misery.” 

“In the hole” has no door, has no entrance, it is not 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


97 


entered, it is penetrated, The victim does not go in, is 
thrust in, not by a passage, but through the hole. Must be 
stripped, must be naked. So long as clothed, possessed of 
the garb of “ the ground floor,” can not be forced in; but 
when in, persisting in living is rewarded by subsistence that 
is flung in through ‘ ‘ the hole.’’ 

“ In the hole ” is not a place, is not a habitation, is not 
a tomb. It is nothing, it is every thing, it is a resort, a 
laboratory, a reservoir, a vacuum, a chasm, an abyss, it is 
hot blast, open furnace, cold blast, convertor, rolls, shears, 
it takes the place of heat, light, electricity, science, power, 
bread, water, fruit, food, ventilation, raiment. 

“The dying process below feeds, gives color to, the 
living process ‘ on the ground floor.’ The darkness and 
gloom ‘ in the hole ’ is the buoyancy and light * on the 
ground floor.’ 

“ ‘On the ground floor’ there is only one thing to be 
dreaded, to be ‘ fought shy of, ’ that is the fear, that is the 
law, that is the aperture, which is the hole. The hole is in 
the ground floor, it is like the ‘ghost,’ it is here, it is there, 
it is everywhere, to fall in, to be put in, to be forced in, to 
be enticed in, to be persuaded in, to get in, any way is to be 
in, and that too forever, never to get out. 

“ The ground floor ’’ has a language of its own, it is the 
elite, “the hole” has its equivalents. The one is the lan- 
guage “as she is spoke,’’ the other is the hole’s vernacular. 

Wealth, luxury, place and power have their equiva- 
lents in “boodle.” Caught napping equals, “pinched.” 
7 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Foiled in management, speculation, manipulation, is being 
“quered.” Satisfying a passion, gratification, has acquired 
that highly distinguished name of “ prostitution.” Conven- 
tion, assembly, has been resolved into a ‘‘gang,” a “mob.’* 
Flashing a roll, has been decided as “shoving the queer, ” 
and so on to the end of the chapter. 

“ The ground floor” is society. The “hole ” is perdi- 
tion. The aperture connecting the two is the umbilical 
chord that makes the two one. Julia Bullion now had her 
hand on the pulse, and she discovered that a circulation was 
still going on between the above and the below. 

She stood on the verge of the chasm and heard the tale 
of woe from the abyss. She could not realize as yet all 
there was in society, or more properly, “ in the hole ” below 
society. She knew nothing of the intercourse existing, the 
intrigues carried on, through the aperture. She had sus- 
pected that there were young men, bachelors, a few liber- 
tines, gamblers, and toughs, that hung around the ragged 
edges of society who kept up an unholy alliance, and in- 
timacy with the irretrievably ruined, but she had never 
suspected the real truth, that husbands and fathers were 
often the sole cause of the down-fall of half the unfortunate 
waifs clinging to the draggled skirts of society. 

It was more than amazement with which she received 
the facts from Mary’s lips, that at the time she was dis- 
charged by the over-sensitive ladies at the “ Woman’s Ex- 
change ” — all for sweet charity’s sake — she had been 
followed by none other than Charles Hamilton, banker, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


99 


brother of Kate Hamilton, the wife of “Jaw-Smith Jim.” 
That to possess her body and defile it, to gratify his passion, 
and fiendish desire he had expended money that belonged 
to his wronged, and outraged sister. That Mary had upon 
her knees begged and implored him for an opportunity to 
earn an honorable living, to do anything, rather than submit 
her body for the gratification of his lust, that when he 
learned that she had never willingly submitted to this life of 
sin and shame, decency hides its face, brazen infamy almost 
blushes, he then the more insisted on accomplishing his 
hellish purposes. 

And this was not all, that three out of the five girls then 
under Mary’s roof had been polluted, defiled, and ruined by 
married men. The more her heart sickened when she 
learned that this was a fair average throughout the fallen 
women of the entire city; that the real truth is in fact that 
married men are better acquainted with woman’s life, char- 
acter, habits, and desires, and that the risk they have at 
stake in keeping their part a secret makes them woman’s 
most fatal foe in this hellish business of ruining their 
victims. 

J ulia for the first time in her life had stood upon the 
threshold of the below. She had caught only the first 
gleam of the lurid glare that shot up from the sulphurous 
rifts ; but her mind was now so wholly absorbed in the fate 
of another that she Left the entire matter with Mary for the 
time being, and charged her to do all she could in looking 
after the starving family of Kate Hamilton and to draw on 


100 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


her for what funds she might be in need of to make them 
comfortable. 

It is not within the purview of this narrative to go into 
the loathsome detail of the surroundings of the tenement 
house curse, or rather the curse that makes the tenement 
house a necessity. But as a brilliant historian once said of 
the mind of a dissolute politician, a history of that mind was 
a history of many thousand minds, so a description of Kate 
Hamilton and her starving children will suffice for the history 
of that large class of increasing victims of legalized prosti- 
tution. 

Mary had narrated substantially all there was in the his- 
tory of their unfortunate friend. The world pardons romance, 
but it despises facts. The secret is that romance and fiction 
do no harm to the theories and pet schemes of isms and 
dogmas, while the facts put society, theories, religions, all 
to shame. 

Kate had made her last attempt to save herself and 
children from starvation that morning; she had dragged her- 
self and children down to the saloon to implore her avowed 
supporter to minister to their wants; she had returned hope-- 
less, and prepared to die. 

Mary did not go to the tenement house that night 
empty-handed, Julia had Contributed the entire sum in her 
purse before leaving, and Mary had added her portion and 
with a bountiful supply she made her way to Kate’s room. 
There was no need of any formality, one does not stop to 
be introduced and ushered into the presence of misery. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


101 


She opened the door, its emptiness, its distitution, more 
horrid than ever before, it was darkness shadowed with 
gloom. 

She had be-thought herself to take a tallow dip and 
some matches. She at once lighted the dip and placed it on 
the window-sill, for there was not another thing above the 
floor upon which to place it. She found Kate crouched 
in the middle of the room, with all her children closely 
packed around her. She had the babe clutched at her 
breast, it had partially satisfied its gnawing hunger, not with 
nature’s food, but with the life-blood of the mother. The 
other children were in a state of suspended animation, be- 
tween inanation and death. She had a supply of warm milk 
for the children, some hot coffee for Kate, together with 
bread and pressed beef. 

When Kate saw the beaming face of her benefactor, 
she relinquished her hold on the infant, lifted her eyes and 
in broken utterances murmured, u My God, my children, 

I am afraid it is too late. ” But it was not too late, they revived 
under the influence of a generous supply of food and drink. 

The two older boys had sold papers, blacked boots, 
hunted for decayed vegetables, inspected garbage piles, 
plied all the arts of the gamin during the summer months, 
but the chill winds of November had frozen the ardor of 
their young hearts, and they could not be coaxed, per- 
suaded, or driven out to battle with the cold, heartless, pity- 
less world. The father, “Jaw-smith Jim,” had done noth- 
ing all the long summer but harangue the strikers, of which 


102 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


he was one, and consume the time in drinking up the pro- 
ceeds of the contributions furnished his striking assembly 
by others at work. 

With trembling lips, Kate remarked “that the crisis 
was now upon them, and there was nothing with which to 
meet it.” She had sold the last article of furniture, the last 
picture, the last vestige of every thing they possessed on 
earth. The next month’s rent would soon be due, and there 
was no way to gather up six dollars to pay for the miserable 
privilege of existing in that awful place. 

There had been no fire in the room since the February 
before, the filth, and damp, and mould were clinging to the 
walls and ceilings, the floor was covered with the filth of a 
year’s accumulation, and the noisome smell was almost 
beyond endurance. Mary said she would see that the room 
was cleansed, and beds, fire, food and clothing forthcoming. 
She kept her word. It was done. 

Truly the poet, not knowing where his next day’s din- 
ner was coming from, stowed away in the garret of the Royal 
Palace, could sing that there was no place like home. So 
did Kate; she shut her eyes, and from the depths of her 
soul wished that there was no place like home. There are 
thousands and thousands of other hovels, dens, garrets, 
cellars, huts, cabins, sod houses where the inmates think and 
feel that there is no place like the particular one under con- 
sideration. And why? The man born with the silver spoon 
in his mouth, the Shylock, says, “bad management,” the 
miser says, “extravagance,” the religious crank, “ disobedi- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


103 


ence to the will of God,’’ the intemperate temperance fana- 
tic, “RUM,’’ the fresh air idiot, “ ventilation,” the protec- 
tionist says “ free trade,” the free trader says, “ protection,” 
the real truth is heard from the victims themselves. When 
the landlord comes for his rent, he hears it ; when the grocer 
goes for his two-year- old bill, he gets it; the butcher asks 
for the balance of his lingering account, hears it; “Jaw- 
smith Jim/’ haranguing the strikers, tells it; and it is all 
summed up in that one word, “family.” 

He can’t own a home of his own because he has a family 
to keep; can’t pay rent because he has a family to keep; 
can’t clothe himself and his wife because he has a family to 
keep; can’t clothe the children because has a large family 
to keep ; can’t pay his grocer because he has such a large 
family to keep ; can’t send them to school because there are 
so many of them to buy books for’; can’t pay his butcher’s 
bill because he has a large family to keep; can’t work for 
$1.50 a day because he has a large family to keep; he can’t 
be anything but poor because he has a large family to keep. 
The family makes this such a home that there is no other 
place just like it; and God be thanked that there are none 
just like it. 

The old proverb needs revision, “As a side hill for 
pumpkins, as a nigger is for dogs, as a fool is for luck, so 
children keep men poor.’’ Of course, the religious enthu- 
siast, who looks upon marriage as a sacrament, who sees in 
the family the cradle of the church ; the quasi-statesman who 
sees in it the nucleus of the State; will all hold up their hands 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


in holy horror and denounce anything not in accord with 
gush and rot; the fine frenzy that draws upon the imagina- 
tion for what is rarely seen in the facts. All will strike a 
tragic air, with upturned eyes, nasal psalmody, and that 
expectant look that bids heaven hear when they pronounce 
that word, home. “ That charmed word, that one syllable 
through which countless melodies thrill.” They will tell you 
of “the laughter of the children,” never of the measles, the 
scarlet fever, the whooping cough, the mother caged as 
securely as the wild beasts until there are gray hairs, prema- 
turely old faces, wrinkled brows, faded and shrunken cheeks, 
lusterless eyes, palsied arms, tired backs, trembling limbs, 
blistered feet, ruined health, sleepless nights, and solicitude 
and dread and fear. They prate about u the sound of the 
well known foot steps ; how sweet to hear the watch-dog bay 
deep-mouthed welcome ; of the eyes that brighten and grow 
brighter, the voices of never-dying affection.” They hear 
“in the ripple of the meadow brook” — that their fathers 
never owned — “ the sweet sound of home.’’ They hear “ the 
lowing of the cattle coming from the pastures’* — that never 
existed only in their diseased imaginations. They dwell 
touchingly on the shadows of tender sorrows, the reflections 
of fond memories. 

They affect to tell you that the word that growls for 
“Home*’ “rises, and sparkles, and leaps, and thrills, and 
whispers, and chants, and prays and weeps,” yes it preys , it 
moans, and agonizes, it does all that and more. They tell 
you that “it glistens like a shield, springs up like a fountain, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


105 


thrills like a: song, twinkles like a star, leaps like a flame, 
glows like sunset, sings like an angel.” Yes it rises like a 
troubled dream, a night-mare, it sparkles with the lightning 
flash of the green-eyed monster, it leaps like the tiger, it 
thrills like the terror of a raging storm, it whispers fear, 
dread, hunger, disease, death. It chants grief more than it 
sings songs of joy, it prays and spells it with an “e”, it 
weeps more than it laughs, it glistens like a shield that as 
often hides the face of the foe as it reveals the face of a . 
friend, it springs up like a fountain and its waters are often 
as bitter and scalding, as they are sweet and cooling. It 
thrills like a song and the song is as often a wail and a moan, 
as it is an indication of joy. Its star-like twinkle is often 
but the last ray of dying hope losing itself in the thick 
darkness of the coming night. It leaps like the flame is 
often the furnace-blast that frets the roof with fire. Its 
glow like the sun-set is often the flash from the sulphurous 
rifts that light up the blackened clouds of the coming storm. 
Its angel songs are as likely to be the songs of angels of 
darkness as angels of light. 

Religion and Home. Words that have brought trans- 
cendant meaning up from the best passions of all by-gone 
times, filled the world with history-bloody-often times, true, 
but history still, filled it with poetry and song, and love and 
light, filled it with holy desires, loving and loved adorations, 
winged persuasions, and veiled destinies, mystic and brilliant, 
splendors and glooms, and glimmering incarnations of hopes 
and fears, and twilight fantasies, and sorrows, that have 


106 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


bred families of sighs and tears and heart-aches, -a few pleas- 
ures, blinded with their tears, that have groped in the dark 
places and have known no light but their own dying smiles. 
We have exhausted all the vocabularies on these two words, 
we have covered them with green laurel boughs, we have 
piled passionate rhetoric on all their sombre sides until their 
sorrows smile like a May Queen, suppose we stop a minute 
and take some testimony from the cold, naked, stubborn 
facts. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


107 


CHAPTER XIV 


“It is only hatred not love that requires explanation. The source of 
the best and holiest, from the universe up to God, is hidden behind a night 
of too-distant stars.” 



OHN ASHTON had devoted his time to the closing 
up of his business that was full upon him at the fatal 
hour when he fell a prey to circumstances. On three 
several occasions since his sentence he has at the request of 
attorneys'and parties in interest, appeared in open court. 


He read much, he played chess with the keepers, he 
had discovered that there was a woman at his back ; he had 
not only read the books she had sent him, he had read 
between the lines; the slight sinuous lines that meant noth- 
ing to his jailer as he turned over the leaves of books, or the 
slight shaking of the volumes by their covers did not disturb 
them. 


“Work on my medicine work, for thus are credulous 
fools caught.” 

Books are sometimes dangerous when their meaning is 
understood, more dangerous oft when misinterpreted. Al- 
most daily there arrived at the cell a package of papers or 
books; this thing had continued for nearly four months, and 
nothing had happened ; the sheriff’s suspicions, if he ever had 
any, had been quieted completely. The keepers had be- 
come enamored of their charge, they had for hours listened 


108 VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 

to the flow of bright, entertaining narrative that fell like 
music from his tongue. It was travel, history, poetry, life 
in London, Paris, Berlin, Naples, Alexandria, the Alps, 
Italy, the Mediterranean, Egypt, that wonderland of the 
Nile, with its pyramids and learning; but never a word of 
himself or his fate. 

The jailer’s pity was fast changing to love and rever- 
ence; to stay and watch this man, to keep him as a victim 
for the gallows that he could hear building, to preserve him 
for an ignominious death, seemed like a second time betray- 
ing his Lord. 

Would he do it? Could he do it? It would have been 
difficult to have told on whom the coming execution was 
making the most impression, the sheriff and his deputies, or 
the condemned man. 

They could hear the rustling of the wings of the angel 
of death, already muffled with the dews of that awful night. 

John Ashton seemed to be the only man whose mind 
was calm, whose perturbed spirit gave no outward manifes- 
tation of inward commotion. Was it because the mind can 
not compel the body to feel the approach of that king of 
shadows, or was it because his soul was big with the fate of 
this house of clay? 

The last night had come. Farewell on the morrow. 

“ We are such stuff 

As Dreams are made of, and our little Life 
Is rounded with a sleep!” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


109 


CHAPTER XV 

“The hour is come: — the destined star has 
risen 

Which shall descend upon a vacant prison. 

The walls are high, the gates are strong, 
thick set 

The sentinels — but true Love never yet 

Was thus constrained. It overleaps all 
fence: 

Like lightning, with invisible violence 

Piercing its continents; like heaven’s free 
breath, 

Which he who grasps can hold not; like 
Death, 

Who rides upon a thought, and makes his 
way 

Through temple, tower, and palace, and the 
array 

Of arms. More strength has Love than he 
or they; 

For it can burst his charnel, and make free 

The limbs in chains, the heart in agony, 

The soul in dust and chaos.” 


f PECTATION sits heavily on the soul of man. The 
greatest test of greatness, of heroic devotion, courage, 
strength, fortitude, of all that makes up the ability 
to do, to act, to direct, to compass about, to obey, to com- 
mand, to execute, to live, to struggle, to suffer defeat, to 
buffet disaster, to sail triumphantly on victorious seas, to die, 
is comprehended in that one monosyllabic, crucial word, 
Wait. It stands at the end of every question we ask ; it 


110 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


crowds itself into every germ of every seed, of every thought, 
of every act ; it plants itself at the opening vista of every life ; 
it is written on every floating banner, unfurled at the head 
of every advancing column ; it precedes the vanguard of every 
marching host; it closes up the opening files; it fills with 
bright and shining shapes the wasted and depleted ranks; it 
fights the battles of fallen comrades; it cheers the fading 
hope ; it nerves the feeble arm ; it stays the retreat ; it shouts 
in the ears of wavering columns; it flutters around the tattered 
standard about to fall ; it clutches at the fleeting shadows of 
every sinking courage; it floats at the mast-head of every 
ship ; it lingers on the dying waves of every sedgy beach ; it 
speaks to every longing soul words of hope; it pictures 
whitening sails that never come, to shore; it said “ Bleucher 
or night,” at Waterloo; “ Stand fast, we are in the right/’ at 
Gettysburg. 

“Serene I fold my hands and wait 
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea; 

1 rave no more ’gainst time or fate, 

For lo! my own shall come to me.” 

On that dark and rainy night in April, John Ashton 
thought he saw a star of hope. The howling winds were 
the rustling of the wings of the angel of deliverance or the 
muffled sound of the storm that should die away on the last 
breath of his expiring body, which? 

He read Paul’s Defense before King Agrippa to his 
guard. He recited from memory the twenty-third Psalm; 
the thirty-fifth chapter of Isaiah. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


111 


O how the clarion notes of that brightest, best, grand- 
est, of old heroes swelled his soul; how the flood-tides of life 
rolled up and broke in sorrowful murmurs on the troubled 
shores of his life so near at hand. The billowy waves of 
emotion piled and heaped against the finished scaffold. 

Would this wilderness, this solitary place of his life yet 
be glad for him? Would this desert yet rejoice? Would 
the roses that were now cradled in the bosom of the April 
storm without, blossom bright and fair, before his eyes, or 
would they be blood-stained above his tomb? Would there 
be the glory of Lebanon in tree and flower, or would it be 
the low requiem dying away in the sowing of the sad hem- 
lock, the solemn pine, the drooping willows? Would he yet 
behold on earth the glory of the Lord, the excellency of our 
God? Would there be strength in weak hands and feeble 
knees? Would the fearful heart be strong? Would God 
come with vengance'to destroy or recompense to save? 
Would the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf 
be unstopped? Would this wilderness of four walls break 
out with waters of mercy, would this desert have a stream 
of deliverance? Would this parched ground, so hot that his 
earthly sandals were already scorched with the coming heat 
of death, be a pool of safety? Would from this habitation 
of the dragon of the law yet be green with grasses and reeds 
and rushes? Would this highway be the way of holiness 
that would lead to deliverance? Would it be so plain that 
he could not err therein? From the agony of his soul came 
that burning question, would there be no lions there, no 


112 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


sleuth-hounds of the law there in the way? Would he be 
the redeemed that walk there unmolested? Would he be 
the ransomed of the Lord that night? Would he come to 
Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon his head? Would 
he, O would he obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and 
sighing flee away? Would the good God yet, with the 
boundless handkerchief of his mercy, wipe all tears away? 
Would he yet live to die an honored and honorable death? 
Would loving and tender hands yet carry him out and lay 
him away amid the music of birds and bees snd cover his 
tomb with pure and bright immortelloes? Would the warm 
winds that have kissed the fair fields of sunny Southland call 
forth the sweet flowers to bud and blossom all over his grave? 
An earnest of God’s love and promise that he would again 
come forth to a happy resurrection, and drink deep and 
copiously of the waters of the River of Life that flow hard by 
the throne and make glad the city of bur God. 

Somehow, when death comes to cashier all heads on a 
level with the lowest, God is the bed-rock, Christ our sheet- 
anchor, and faith the only hawser in which we trust to hold 
our frail bark to its moorings. Somehow, then we are all 
glad to believe in inspiration, in miracles, in resurrection. 
Somehow, then we see that we have believed a thousand 
things more absurd than any thing we have effected to be- 
lieve was absurd in the Bible. Somehow, then we cling to 
Mother God, the sweetest name on earth, the dearest name 
in heaven. Somehow, then to know that for us as well as 
for him who first uttered it, “I know that my Redeemer 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


113 


liveth,” outweighs and argues down all the fine frenzy, no 
matter how it may be painted and covered with passionate 
rhetoric. 

To be like the time, John Ashton had beguiled the 
time, he had read to his guards, he had talked with them, he 
had whiled away the time with them, in fact, he had enter- 
tained them until his four iron walls were to them a fountain 
of light. He had been like the innocent flower, not that he 
might be the serpent under it, but that he might do for him- 
self what blinded justice had failed to do. 

His plans were completed. He sat by his guard, as 
was his custom, engaged in earnest conversation until about 
10 o’clock. He usually took a pace cross the narrow cell 
floor, for probably fifteen minutes, then prepared for his 
couch, this night was to be his last. 

Among the many volumes of books that had been per- 
mitted to come and go, there was one that had escaped the 
notice of both jailer and guards. It contained a sponge the 
size of a man’s fist, a flat glass bottle containing nearly a 
pint of chloroform. 

These had been secreted about his person and bed cloth- 
ing at times of inspection, and had eluded the notice of the 
jailer and guards. He had been provided with three strong 
silken cords, each about four feet in length. These he had 
no difficulty in concealing about his person. 

The guard took no notice of him as he paced his cell 
floor, it was his custom ; in fact, every movement he was now 
going through, he had performed each evening for the last 


114 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


four months. Why should they create any suspicions in 
the mind of his guard ? 

Little did the simple-minded guard think his prisoner 
was the practiced athlete, the far-sighted and far-thoughted 
lawyer, the bold and resolute man, preparing for his deliver- 
ance! So kind, so gentle, he did not suspect him capable 
of any guile, any strategic thought or action. His confi- 
dence had been so absolutely gained by the man he was sup- 
posed to be watching, that when the watched became the 
watcher, it aroused no suspicions in his mind. 

Ashton had passed and repassed him, probably twenty 
times. When at the door of the cell, the prisoner would 
turn and be standing at his guard's back, would walk past 
him, turn around, face the guard, and pace by him and re- 
turn. The opportunity for saturating the sponge had come, 
it was accomplished without attracting the guard’s attention. 
One-half the fluid had been absorbed, the bottle had been 
securely recorked, and placed in the prisoner’s pocket. The 
guard sat cross-legged with his hands locked over his lifted 
knees. The time was most propitious. Ashton was an f 
athlete, strong, quick and possessed of iron nerve. With l 
one quick spring, he was master of the situation. He threw t 
his left shoulder against the left side of the guard as he a 
was passing him, his left arm passing over his body, and 
clutching his right arm above the elbow, completely and 
securely fastening it against the body. In his right hand he 
held his sponge, and his right arm had been passed round J, 
his neck at the instant he sprang upon him. He now pressed [ 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


115 


the sponge tightly against his mouth and nostrils. He had 
thrown his left leg over his crossed legs and locked hands. 
His left leg was thrown over his right knee, this enabled 
Ashton to pass his foot over his left, and secure a grape- 
vine lock on the underside of his right. The whole weight 
of Ashton’s body was thus thrown on his legs, and securely 
fastened him to his chair with his right foot firmly on 
the floor. 

The guard was so completely taken by surprise, so 
wholly unexpected was the attack, that he was unable to 
make a move, a struggle or the faintest outcry. In less 
than a minute he was unconscious and absolutely powerless. 
Ashton quickly placed his sponge in his rubber tobacco 
pouch, and stowed it away in his pocket. 

It was but the work of a minute to remove his coat, as 
well as that of his guard, and exchange places, so far as 
appearance of hat and coat would go. He immediately 
bound and secured his guard, and put him in the bed. The 
sheets were made into ropes and a gag. After securely 
fastening his hands and feet, and preparing the gag to 
be used whenever he regained consciousness, he arranged 
the scant furniture, his own clothing, as best he could, 
and took the place of the guard to await the coming of the 
deputy and the guard, who were to relieve the man on 
watch, at the hour of midnight. 

Nothing had escaped the vigilant eye of Ashton, he 
had suggested ventilation, and had been successful in having 
his views adopted and put into use, so that the last trace of 


116 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


the chloroform had gone before the arrival of the deputy 
and the guard. 

The guards were armed with the most approved pat- 
tern of revolvers. Ashton was now in possession of the one, 
his cords and gags in readiness. The usual position of the 
guard was to sit with his face to the prisoner, his back to the 
entrance to the cell. The cot was at the end of the cell 
farthest from the cell-door, the distance between the prisoner 
and guard being about ten feet. The only light in the cell 
was that furnished from a dark lantern placed on a stool by 
the side of the guard, the rays thrown on the prisoner. 

The guard regained consciousness about 11 o’clock, and 
was at once ordered to open his mouth and submit to be 
gagged. The gentle manners of the prisoner had all dis- 
appeared, he sternly informed the guard that any attempt on 
his part to give an alarm would be rewarded with another 
application of the anesthetic, and if, at the approach of the 
deputy and the guard, he moved a muscle, it would be instant 
death to the three, as he was bent on his escape, or if he 
died, it would be after they had been first dispatched. 

Then, for the first time, he spoke of his innocence to 
the guard, calling him by name, he thus addressed him, u I 
am innocent, as much so as you, of the death of Dr. Arling- | 
ton. I consider it my duty to make my escape, and I shall { 
see to it that you are not in any way held responsible for my 
so doing, or that you are in no way held to answer for any 
complicity in the act; you shall be exonerated from any and 
all wrong doing. Trust me.” The guard saw there was no 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


117 




other alternative. He remained quiet. He could do noth- 
ng more. 

As the clock in the belfry struck the hour of twelve, 
Ashton heard the well-known footsteps of the night deputy 
and his guard as they came down that long, low corridor 
that led to his cell. It was the supreme moment. All the 
terror of four months now crowded into that crucial, fleeting 
minute. Wait, was now action. The key was placed in the 
lock, “ click n — the huge, massive door of solid plate-iron 
swung on its hinges. The soul of the guard had shrunken 
into nothingness, the mental anguish and suffering of the 
prisoner, had swelled his gigantic soul and heart to immense 
proportions. 

He turned half way around on his chair, the guard had 
not closed the door, his suspicions seemed to be aroused, 
would he never come in. Great beads of sweat now stood 
out on the doomed man’s brow. Were all his plans to come 
to naught? Strategy first, the fierce struggle, if need be, 
afterward. A whisper, is not a tone; a nod, a smile, is 
enough to kill sometimes, a slight motion of the hand as if 
commanding silence. “Shut the door, he sleeps.” The 
guard obeyed. He swung the ponderous door, it closed. 
Quick as a flash of light, the dark lantern was turned on the 
two men, the gleam of the guard’s revolver shone in their 
eyes. “ Up with your hands, or you are dead men! ” The 
master mind was asserting itself. Both men obeyed. 


The lantern had been attached to his coat, this gave 
im the freedom of his hands. Lifting his left hand on a 


118 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


level with his revolver held in his right, Ashton thus ad- 
dressed them, without ever a tremor in his well modulated 
voice: 4 * Gentlemen, for such you have ever been to me, 
you have known me for years as an honorable man, I am 
not guilty of the crime for which I am soon to pay the 
penalty with my life. I have no thought of quietly sub- 
mitting to this judicial murder, I have no quarrel or cause 
of quarrel with you. I would not harm a hair of your heads. 
I do not ask you to aid me in any way or to do anything 
that would charge you with any complicity in my attempted 
escape. You are in my power. It is needless for you to 
resist. Your guard is not harmed, he is simply bound. I 
do not wish to commit willful murder, but I must be free or 
I will be obliged to sacrifice you both.’’ 

“Without lowering your hands face about to this side- 
wall — directing them with his left hand — stand up close to 
the wall, gentlemen.” He then took a revolver out of the 
deputy’s right hip pocket, transferred it to his own, a pair 
of hand cuffs out of his left hip pocket. “ Bring the elbow 
of your right arm on a level with your shoulder, Mr. Deputy, 
your hand pointing to the ceiling, your face against the wall.” 
It was with a shiver that the deputy felt the cold steel clasp 
firmly around his naked wrist. 44 Now, Mr. Guard, lower 
your left arm until your elbow is on a level with your 
shoulder.’’ The other end of the bracelet was deftly and 
quickly fastened on his wrist. There was that amount of 
cleverness in the manner of Ashton’s manipulations, that 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


119 


these two men accustomed to secure and bind men as they 
would wild beasts, felt that they were powerless. 

He then took from the guard’s right hip pocket his 
revolver, from his left another pair of hand cuffs — this 
looked like good fortune — “Mr. Guard, bring your left 
shoulder up to and touch the deputy’s right, place your 
back against his, bring your right elbow on a level with 
your shoulder, your hand pointing to the ceiling.’’ 

Both men saw the hand -writing on the wall. The 
deputy’s left hand was soon shackled to the guard’s right. 
Then they were backs together, and hands securely fastened. 

On either side of where the deputy stood there were 
heavy staples projecting from the wall, about on a level with 
his shoulder, in these staples were a pair of rings evidently 
intended for the very purpose which Ashton now used them. 
He passed the cords, he had intended using for the purpose 
of securing their hands, through these rings and securely 
fastened them in the shackles. He then put soft gags in 
their mouths, took the keys from the deputy’s pocket, 
changed hats with the deputy, and proceeded to go out. He 
opened the door to the cell, passed out, locked it, took up 
the lantern left on the outside by the officer and walked 
down the long, dark corridor until he reached the door that 
led into the main hall, or reception room. 

On the three several occasions that he had been con- 
ducted from the cell that he was now leaving, he had observed 
everything, even to the keys used by the deputy. He had 
selected it out of the bunch as he walked along the corridor. 


120 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


With a firm and resolute hand he now placed it in the key 
hole, turned the bolt, and swung the door open and walked 
out; securely fastened it as he had seen the deputy do; 
passed the night watchman’s door. The night watch had 
observed but one man coming out, He put his head out 
the door to ascertain the cause. He received a satisfactory « 
answer. The deputy thought it safer to have two men in 
the cell with the prisoner than just the one. 

“Was the prisoner sleeping well?” 

“ He was.” 

“ Where are you going?” • 1 

“ I am going out for a little while; when I return will 
leave the keys with you.” 

He stepped out into the night, closed the front door and 
locked it after him ; glided swiftly into the alley at the corner 
of the jail and disappeared in the darkness. 

He passed down the alley to the first street, then one 
square east, where he found a closed carriage with two 
horses attached and driver on the box. 

“ How long have you been waiting?” was his only re- 
mark to the man on the seat. 

“ Not long,” was the laconic answer. 

The horses were off at once in a full round trot, and 
never slackened their pace until the city was left far behind 
them and the clean, white farm houses began to show by the 
flashes of lightning that every few minutes shot athwart the 
sky. The night was very propitious, thought Ashton. How 
many persons have seen me? Will any of them remember 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


121 


of having seen me this night? On such a night those who 
are so unfortunate as to be out remember better than if the 
streets had been thronged with people. 

The only person he had met between the jail and the 
carriage was an aged man, with long straggling beard and 
white hair, his face almost hidden under a gray slouch hat, 
pulled far down over his eyes. He had noticed that the old 
man had lifted his head and looked into his face. Had 
the old man really seen him; was he looking at him, 
or was he startled by the flash of lightning just at that 
moment? 

Their paths lay in different directions. The horses 
sped on. At early dawn they pulled up at a hostelry in the 
city of C. — thirty-five miles in five hours. Not so bad for 
such a night. 

•‘This trip was settled for before we started, was it not ?’’ 

“Yes.” 

The rain was still pouring down in torrents; the silent 
passenger asked no questions, but proceeded quietly and 
rapidly on his way. He looked neither to the right nor to 
the left, but pressed quickly on, until he stood in front of a 
door bearing a certain number that had been years ago 
burned into memory as if with a heated iron. The door 
bell rang; an elderly lady answered the call. “Come in; 
you are very wet; you look tired; will you have a cup of 
tea?” “If you please.” He then threw himself down on 
the lounge and waited for the tea. It was soon coming; he 
drank it; was told that he could retire; he gladly did so. 


122 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


That sleep was long and refreshing. It was two o’clock in 
the afternoon when he awoke. 

His first thought was of the gray-haired old man. Why 
should that phantom, as it were, so fix itself in his mind? 
We shall see. The old man seemed to know the course he 
was bent on, as well as Ashton knew his. If he was not 
accustomed to the route, the path was well mapped out in 
his mind. “ East three squares, to your right down the 
narrow street, follow this until it debouches into M, to the 
left ten squares, cross to second narrow street, take walk 
close by high wall until large, high building is reached, go 
to rear entrance, take back stairs, go up to seventh floor, 
down hall to 359, your key fits this door.’’ 

The old man followed directions with all the care of the 
pathfinder accustomed to follow trails. It seemed to him 
that he was alone in that great city, he had not seen a living 
being in his walk, not even a lonely sentinel. It was with a 
feeling of relief that he heard the bolt turn and the door open. 

There are times when one is alone, and finds one’s 
mind meeting with another mind, that has been there in an- 
ticipation, that the very loneliness becomes a personality, 
and the sense of being is so full upon one that individuality 
and silence are brothers. It is a feeling akin to possessing 
all there is in sight, and supplies the mind with a kind of 
food that takes away that longing desire for home and friends. 
As he gazed round the room, he saw the handiwork of some 
loving friend. 

To come suddenly upon some object placed purposely 


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123 


in our way by loving hands, touches a chord in our souls 
akin to something divine. It is seeing where God has been 
and trusting in Him. 

There was a fire in the grate, a light on a small stand, 
two chairs — what need had he for two chairs — because of the 
spirit of friendship in our natures that will not allow us to be 
alone in the world. Man includes brother, sister, they two, 
reach out before and after, appealing for kinship that 
elevates humanity, and makes it by nature superior to the 
wild beast. 

There was a bed, scant, but clean, a larder filled with 
choice food, of a kind that might have been suggested by 
one who had been accustomed to purchasing food for long 
journeys; a pitcher of water, a note directing him to the 
place where it might be replenished when the supply was 
gone, wash bowl and towels, soap, combs, brushes, mirror. 

The old man gazed at himself, and smiled as he caught 
the first reflection in the glass. He, too, had seen a lonely 
footman at the hour of one in the morning; would he recog- 
nize that face if he should chance to meet it again ? It looked 
as though it might be a woman in disguise. There was too 
much color, too much fullness of the face, the mustaches 
might have been glued on. 

He slept, fitful, dreamy sleep, sudden awakenings, cold 
sweats standing on his brow;, his hands clenched in imagin- 
ary struggles. Morning came, the day rolled on, night fol- 
lowed with its darkness, and the rain still fell in torrents. 
There was a gentle tap at the door. It startled him; he 


124 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


arose and opened it. A newspaper was thrust in by a mes- 
senger boy who said never a word, but rushed on his way. 

He hurriedly ran his eye over the head lines of the paper. 
He felt that it must contain something of interest to him, for 
he had never before known a newspaper delivered at a ten- 
ement house. Who could have sent it? While he was thus 
musing his eye caught the following: Outraged Justice 
Cheated — John Ashton, the Murderer of Dr. Arling- 
ton, Dodged the Fatal Noose — the Cleverness of His 
Delivery Offsets the Stupidity of the Circumstantial 
Evidence that He had Allowed to be Woven About 
Him — Detectives are on His Track, and His Capture is 
only a Question of a Few Hours. 

The report gave a description of the team that the old 
man had noticed as he passed Ashton in his flight from the 
jail. He recalled the appearance of the man and his quick 
step and entrance into the closed carriage. 

Newspaper reports are supposed to be the very embod- 
iment of wisdom, but generally they are but the source of 
general misinformation. They certainly were in this case. 
Ashton had calculated very closely. He had the only key 
to the main entrance to the jail. Through this door must 
come all those who entered into the main corridor that led 
to the cells below, and to the one he had occupied for the 
past four months 

The night watch was as securely locked in his room, as 
the deputy and his two guards in the cell. There was no 
one to give an alarm, and it was not until eight o’clock in 


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125 


the morning that the sheriff had any knowledge of what had 
happened. He at once dispatched a messenger to the resi- 
dence of his deputy to learn why he was not on duty. When 
he learned that the deputy had not been at his home during the 
night, he suspected that all was not right. He concluded at 
once that he had been bribed. No time was lost in opening 
the door to the main entrance. This once done, the doors 
to the steel cages were tried and found to be locked. The 
night watch could give no information, further than that the 
deputy had said to him when going out, that he considered 
it safer to leave both the guards with the prisoner that night. 
On being assured that his prisoner was securely locked 
within, the sheriff could not account for the absence of his 
trusty deputy. He had counted on him to assist him in 
working the victim off. 

It was fully eleven o’clock before the cell was reached, 
but the real situation could not then be learned as the door 
was of solid steel, and no sight of the inside could be had 
until the door was removed. This took up fully three hours 
more. 

The sheriff shook the ring that was used for the purpose 
of pulling the door on its hinges when unlocked. He called 
aloud. The only sound that reached his ear was a sup- 
pressed groan. It was impossible to distinguish voices. 

The scene that met the eyes of the sheriff as he entered 
the cell was a sort of serio comic one. There stood his 
deputy and one guard, back to back, hands shackled to- 
gether, and gags in their mouths, and securely tied to the 


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wall of the cell, while the other guard was as safely fastened 
to the bed, with a gag in his mouth. 

When released the deputy and guard both fell to the 
floor exhausted. The guard on the cot had fared better. 
From him the sheriff first learned the story of the deliverance. 
As the guard related the facts there was a sense of shame 
and relief visible on the face of the sheriff; and when he 
came to consider the cool deliberation with which the plot 
had been carried out, all his pity and good-will toward Ash- 
ton turned into rage and revenge. It was not so much that 
he blamed Ashton as that he accused himself of negligence. 
No accusation is so bitter, so uncompromising, so unrelent- 
ing as self-accusation. Our anger, our bitterness, our blame, 
our feeling toward another, sometimes goes to the extent 
that it acts as its own foil, and we feel that we have been too 
severe, too hasty ; not so when we are enraged at ourselves. 

When he thought it all over, how senseless it was for 
him to have any qualms, any sentimentality about hanging 
a lawyer who could entice a man into his private office and 
without a moment’s warning send him into eternity; his pity, 
his feeling for such a man now seemed so senseless, so inex- 
cusable that his passion knew no bound. His rashness, his 
lack of self control passed from rage to ridiclousness; he 
paced up and down the low, dark corridor. “This show,’’ 
said he, <f was advertised to come off between ten a. m. and 
four p. m., and it shall, if I have to be the victim.” But it 
did not come off all the same. John Ashton was too much 
of a hero, a stragegist, to die when there was a good reason 
for not doing so. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


127 


CHAPTER XVI 


Men have faith in wrinkles.’ 


“ For when events, which are mutable, address a question to our souls, 
Justice, which is unchangeable, summons us to reply.” 



HE CLUE” — mentioned by the newspaper — fol- 
lowed up, took the sneak of humanity, com- 
monly called a detective, to the city of C. The 
aforesaid parasite of the law here lost sight and scent of the 
trial, and returned baffled, out-witted, out generaled, undone. 

Above the justice of circumstances there is the justice 
of humanity, a few noble souls always serve to keep the 
justice of humanity alive. The heat of the court room of 
November was gone, the genial sunshine of April was come. 
Men were now ready to allow circumstances to speak in 
another language. Had there been anything developed 
since the death of Dr. Arlington that even hinted that Ash- 
ton would be the gainer by his removal? Nothing. Then 
since the taking of Ashton’s life would in no way make 
amends for Dr. Arlington’s death; what boots it to society 
to murder him against his sworn testimony that he was 
innocent? 

The law could not lay its hands on Ashton ; its devotees 
cast about to find some one who could be coupled with the 
crime who might be benefited by the murder. Always be- 
hind the scaffold, the rack, the lash, there is building the 
temple, moderation, humanity. 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


There is an inscrutable something behind the will of the 
evil-doer that is constantly breaking down his bold front, 
washing away his courage, following him like a phantom. 
The faces of his friends, his old haunts, seem to say to him, 
“you are changing, you are not yourself.” The man 
fighting with himself is undermining his walls, his fortifica- 
tions to get sand bags wherewithal to back the wall, they 
totter, they fall, they disclose the breach, they point to the 
abyss. 

The sleuth hounds of the law had lost the scent, they 
gave up the search, they skulked back into their dens to 
meditate. These vampires of humanity are themselves crim- 
inals, their criminality grows upon them, their appetites 
increase by what they feed upon. They make it society’s 
business to turn itself into a man-trap, to catch and perse- 
cute whomsoever they suspect, and punish rather than to 
save the innocent and rescue the perishing. 

The great ocean of action that daily rolls over humanity 
and breaks in upon our minds by means of dots, dashes and 
printer’s ink, today drowns yesterday, and Ashton’s deliv- 
ery is followed by cyclone, railway accident, suicide. Even 
the phantom-like, gray-haired old man, who at the dead of 
night saw a fleeting shadow of a man going away from the 
jail, must needs go about the streets, and make inquiry if 
the futitive be yet taken, before he can find out that society 
has lost track of him. 

This gray haired phantom was a tenement-house occu- 
pant, he could give society nothing, and society lost all 
interest in him. If the hand of charity would furnish him 
subsistence, then he would live, if not, then he must die. 
Kate Hamilton and the old man had found a friend in Julia 
Bullion, and they lived, thanks to Mary, the fallen, for the 
part she had taken in their behalf. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


129 


PART II 



CHAPTER XVII 

He who has a partner has a master.” 


UDGE BULLION had been lawyer and judge for 
forty years. As a lawyer he had relied, as all law- 
yers must, on “the glorious uncertainty of the law,” as a 
judge, which he had been for ten years, he had come to put 
trust in decrees, judgments and sentences. Ashton had 
cheated .the gallows, true, but it was only for a moment, so to 
speak. Every approach of his sense that carried intelligence 
to his brain was on the alert, on the tip-toe of expectation, 
waiting to announce the fugitive’s capture and return. The 
longer the time, the more certain that he must be captured 
and returned. Would the man allow himself to be cap- 
tured? The judge had been surprised at the course taken 
by his partner, had he no respect for the verdict of a jury, 
would he fling insult into the very teeth of the court pro- 
nouncing sentence? “It was not lawyer-like,” the judge 
said to himself. ‘ ‘ Lawyers ought to be the very last men 
to oppose the dignity of the law ; they, above all men, should 
gracefully submit to the decrees of the court. It is certainly 
a bad precedent for a lawyer to seek to establish. Would I, 
after trial, sentence, of my client advise him to plan and 
9 


130 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


plot against the officers of the law, and do so ungraceful and 
ungrateful a thing as to betray the confidence of majesty’s 
servants? No, indeed; lawyers, I say, above all other men, 
can not afford to thus trample upon the dignity of decrees 
and sentences.” 

Julia had overheard her father’s soliloquy; she approached 
him, always with the greatest deference and profound re- 
spect. “Pardon me, father, for my intrusion upon your 
thoughts. ’’ He bowed with that patronizing air of the court; 
as the court usually does; not because the court owes you 
any respect or consideration ; but because it would not be 
becoming in the court to omit an ancient form that has been 
handed down from the dim and misty past; “but did I 
understand you to say that if you had known of John’s” — 
they called him by his given name — “plans to escape that 
you would have opposed them, I mean to say, Julia,” half 
rising in his chair, “as much as I love John, I should cer- 
tainly have exposed the plot if it had come to my knowl- 
edge.” 

“Then,’’ said Julia, with more than her usual warmth, 
“if you now knew where he was you would feel it your duty 
to inform on him?” 

He hesitated. She saw her opportunity. “If he were 
here at this moment would you feel it your duty to hand him 
him over to the authorities?” That was a hard question, 
b.ut the Judge had conquered humanity. He answered with 
that steely ring in his voice that was such a terror to the vic- 
tims of the law : 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


131 


I “I most assuredly would.” 

“Then in your blind submission you would be willing 
to see the creature trample upon and crush the creator, 
would you?” His look was half of pity and half of scorn. 
The reply was ready on his lips; he was about to say, “ You 
are a woman and do not understand these things,’’ when he 
bethought himself; for he had been made to feel the force 
and vigor of her strong, keen logic; her power of analysis; 
her ability to reason before. He withheld the words, and 
lifted the thread-bare old foil, “Women cannot possibly be 
made to see the eternal fitness of things; they cannot even 
tell the truth — I mean like a man; they cannot see things 
as a man ; they behold everything through a different lense 
from what men do ; men look at the cold, naked facts ; women 
see everything through their sensibilities, their sympathy, 
their affections, their tears.” 

He paused, lifted his hands, palms downward, and 
brought them down on the two arms of the chair. The 
arms of the chair represented the party addressed. He 
waited to see if the effect had been what he anticipated. 
The expression about his tightly compressed lips seemed to 
say, “Are you squelched?” 

The trained mind of a woman has about it a something, 
a power, that a man does not possess. It comes from her 
constant rally and struggle of her intellectual forces, and 
will-power over the weaknesses of her physical, her mind 
has that elasticity, that tense, nervy fiber that can spring 
again and thrust, that is wholly lacking in man. 


132 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


There was a far-away, dreamy look in her eye that 
seemed to say “All for Hecuba, and what’s Hecuba to him 
or he to Hecuba?” To a woman’s untrained mind, to a 
woman not accustomed to pit herself against the shafts of 
man’s wit, railery, sarcasm, and epigram, the Judge’s oft 
repeated fling at woman might have been a squelcher, but 
not so with a woman so fathered and so educated. With 
the calm dignity, and composure that she had inherited from 
him, she held to her question. “Do you think your answer 
responsive? ” 

There was nothing that could put the Judge so much, 
and so quickly on his mettle as to remind him, even in the 
most trivial matter, that he had not “followed the rule,” 
the law. The look that he now cast at her, simply showed 
how completely, entirely, wholly, thoroughly, and abso- 
lutely, the man, the lawyer, the judge, was one-sided in his 
views, his education, his thoughts, 4 4 let me see ” — as though 
there was a dual person in his mind, — the one of which 
said to the other, “you was talking to a woman about a 
woman, the law you know don’t apply to her,” 4 what was 
your question? ” 

She put it in a milder form, “ Which do you regard as 
of the most value, which would you rescue first, the house 
or the builder? 

He answered her almost savagely, by asking another 
question, “ Did John Ashton make the law? ’’ 

Her calm reply was, “ No, but in all probability he was 
the equal, if not the superior,, of the men that did.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


133 


He looked at her, half enraged, half quizzical, as much 
as to say, “ Not squelched yet? ” 

His discretion suggested the foil of man’s superiority, 
and from behind that he grumbled again, “ You can’t reason 
with a woman.” That was what he said audibly, but to his 
inner consciousness he was saying, “ Woe to that man who 
pits his cold, naked facts against the strong current of 
a woman’s will, backed with her quick intuition, her sym- 
pathy, her sensibility, her tears, her affections, her heart.” 

Somehow, it was the “woman’s last word” that had 
hit the mark full and fair in the center, the arrow was still 
quivering in his mind, “ You know as a lawyer, Julia, that 
we can not countenance such things; while the law is in 
force, we must see that it is enforced.” 

“True, father, but is not there something higher than 
the law at times — is there not equity? ” 

Judge Bullion always had supreme contempt for the 
chancellor, and he answered her in the exact language of 
that eminent jurist, who had never been heard to swear until 
the occasion of this answer^ “Equity? What is equity, 
damn equity.” 

The man who makes answer with an oath is either lying 
or admitting that he is defeated or both, usually both. 

The Judge was again being judged by the law’s blind 
judgment. It had so many years ago condemned the out- 
rush of his heart, his soul, as an unholy passion, that the 
murderous thought was again saying to the ghost that had 


134 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


so many times crossed his path, “ Shake not thy gory 
locks at me.” 

When the law makes the law-maker a sinner, every 
out-lash of transgression by the creator against the creature 
must sooner or later be followed by the sharp, quick, keen, 
backward stroke of repentance. It was the keen, quick, 
sensitive mind of the Judge pressing itself hard against the 
sharp, rugged, bristling, thorny customs, prejudices, and 
precedents of the dead past. 

He felt again the strong hand of this tyrant laid heavily 
upon him, he felt its cold, clamy fingers again clutching at 
the throat of his pride. Law, marriage, descent, and dis- 
tribution, were again in a death struggle with hearts, love, 
and humanity. 

Heart’s desires, burning passions, winged persuasions, 
splendors and glooms, veiled destinies, glimmering incarna- 
tions of hopes and flying fears have never yet been com- 
passed about with imaginary lines, imaginary environments, 
imaginary moates and dikes buttressed however strong with 
fanciful walls of threatened and threatening fire. 

Judge Bullion was so completely imbued with the idea 
of the creature’s power, that to break away from its leashes 
was to become himself the associate, the aider, the abettor, 
of crime and criminals. 

Prejudices become ligatures that bind the mind to error 
and darkness with such power and strength that it takes the 
utmost intensity of heat and light to set us free. The man 
deeply absorbed in the game often is blind to the move that 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


135 


the looker-on sees would check-mate his antagonist. It was 
Judge Bullion’s game. He had often said, “Check” — his 
breath would fail, the other word would die on his lips. 

The wrangling, the disputation, is not so much about what 
the law is as what effect it will have when applied to this or 
that interest to be affected by the application. This was the 
precise difficulty between these two partners. 

Judge Bullion did not desire the death of John Ashton; 
but on the other hand desired and was anxious to have him 
liberated, acquitted ; but he was so much the slave of the crea- 
ture that he would murder the creator rather than abate one 
jot or tittle of the creature’s prerogative. It was the Shylock 
of his profession that had captivated his humanity and con- 
tinually said, “ Was it not so nominated in the bond?” 

He had often held the scales of justice and meted out 
the measurement to contending and conflicting interests of 
litigants; but never until now had he been called upon to see 
himself so placed in the scales against himself; on the one 
side v/as his heart, his love; on the other side his pride, his 
slavish adherence to undefinable dread; to the air-drawn 
dagger of the invisible personage — custom, precedent, law. 
What he only half suspected before was clear to him now : 
Julia had laid the plans; Ashton had executed them. If he 
should succeed in evading the sentence would she seek him? 
In their banishment he foresaw all his former solicitude, his 
dread, his life-long fear, his expected happening. 

He saw his mistake; he had disclosed his mind. She 
would not take him into her confidence for the future; hence- 


136 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


forth he stood for the law; she for the rescue. He could not 
stand any the worse; he inquired her intentions. She had 
divined his purpose. She would put him on the track. If 
he communicated the scent to the detectives all the better. 

He well knew that cross examination would be a two- 
edged sword that was likely to cut both ways. He would 
simply ask a question; make a very commonplace inquiry. 

In the most innocent manner he asked, “ What are your 
plans for the summer, daughter?” 

She was equally as guileless. “I think of going to 
Europe in June, father.” 

He thought she had told him something of importance. 
In his mind he said, “Not as shrewd as I gave you credit 
with being.” 

This last answer was so successful that he concluded 
another venture. “ Has John actually sailed?” He thought 
he saw her blush. 

“Sailed?” 

“ Yes; gone to Europe?” 

“ I hope he is there long ere this.” 

His whole frame shuddered, his eyes brightened. “ I 
must go see him.” 

“Really?” 

“Truly.” 

“ You are jesting, are you not, father?” 

‘‘Jesting, no indeed.” 

“ It was but a short time ago that you would hand him 
over to the law as a fugitive from justice. I see” — with a 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


137 


tinge of bitterness in the remark — “you wish to find him 
that you may offer him protection, such as vultures offer 
lambs.” 

The situation was getting embarrassing; the subject was 
dropped. 

When a man’s life, and happiness, and pride are all 
wrapped up in a single subject, he can’t long remain silent 
in the presence of the one who holds the key to the situa- 
tion. Judge Bullion saw in this declaration of his daughter, 
the danger that must be avoided, to allow these two people 
to secrete themselves for the remainder of their lives, was 
the one object of his life to prevent. Ashton was at home 
in Europe, both in England and France; and, in fact, any- 
where on the continent. His education, his life as a boy 
made him a Frenchman in manners and tastes, and his 
knowledge of Italian, and Spanish, and German, was such 
that he could go anywhere at will, and be as much at home 
as in America. 

The whole subject was a painful one to Judge Bullion’s 
mind; in his attempt to have Fred Bullion push his claim 
and have Julia commit herself, he had brought on this fatal 
disaster to his hopes, and the destruction of her happiness, 
and the jeopardy of Ashton’s life. Affairs could not well 
be in a worse condition. Why not sound her mind on this 
matter at once and know the worst? If she was disposed to 
marry Fred, why not know it and put at rest this much 
annoying subject? If this could be accomplished then she 
might go to Europe with his blessing, and the sooner she 


138 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


met Ashton and informed him of her union with Fred, the 
better. 

Julia’s mind was absorbed in the contemplation of an 
entirely different subject, she was somewhat startled when 
her father approached her. He arose from where he was 
sitting, crossed the room, and stood by her side, his left 
hand thrust into his pantaloon pocket, his right nervously 
dangling the fob on his watch chain. “Julia, I was just 
thinking of a matter that deeply concerns us both — ” he 
hesitated, Fred Bullion’s name had not been mentioned by 
either of them to the other since that fatal day in November 
last — “ I was thinking of inviting Fred to dinner tomorrow.” 
She grew deathly pale. Her brow was firmly knit, her 
beautiful face at that moment was not pleasing to look upon, 
she hesitated a moment to have him go on with his thought, 
for she saw that he had purposely stopped to calculate what 
the effect of that name would be on her mind. The effect 
had so startled him that he was in no mood to go on. She 
saw her opportunity. “ I can’t see how his being at dinner 
is a matter that concerns me deeply ; ” — with great stress on 
the last words — “in fact, I don’t see that it concerns me at 
all.” 

“You astonish me.’’ 

“You pain me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, I have no desire to see him, much less to 
dine with him.” The tone and feeling betrayed in the words 
of that last utterance were more significant than the words 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


139 


themselves. The Judge saw how completely he had failed. 
Not yet. 

“Because sentence against an evil work is not executed 
speedily, therefore, the heart of the sons of men is fully set 
in them to do evil.’’ 

No man of Judge Bullion’s pride has ever submitted 
gracefully to the teaching of woman. She may lead him 
whithersoever she will, so long as she does not impress him 
with the fact that he is doing her bidding. If he but fol- 
lows his own sweet will, it makes no difference what has 
gone before, but to be taught, catechised, by a woman is to 
invite open revolt. She may suggest, point out, call his 
attention to certain things which he may have forgotten, or 
possibly overlooked, but do not invade the precincts of his 
sacred prerogative to teach. His nature says ever, “ behold 
the man.” 

Judge Bullion felt that in this passage of arms with his 
daughter he had the worst of it, and so long as that thought 
burned in his mind he could not be at ease. True, he did 
not seek a quarrel; but rather than be burdened with this 
feeling he was willing to risk his peace of mind; probably his 
happiness. 

Why did his daughter manifest so much feeling at the 
mention of Fred Bullion’s name? Did she suspect that Fred 
had anything to do with the murder of Dr. Arlington? Im- 
possible. He would as soon suspect Ashton as Fred. Her 
tone, her pained look, her very gesture warned him against 
mentioning that name again; he must await developments 


140 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


that would clear away all suspicions that Fred was in any 
way implicated. Would it be safe to attempt to bring them 
together? Hardly. He concluded to see Fred; consult 
him ; carry some word of his to her sore and lacerated mind ; 
something to convince her that Fred was in sympathy with 
her in her distress. 

On the morning following, as he was about to go to his 
study from the breakfast table, he said in his off-hand way, 
“Julia, as you do not care to dine with Fred, I will be forced 
to ask him to postpone his call until we are quite assured of 
— of” — she completed the sentence for him ; “of his being 
an accessory before the fact in the murder of Dr. Arlington.” 

He was astounded with her boldness. “ What! a Bul- 
lion do such a thing?” 

“Yes, father, Bullions have done such things.’’ 

“ Was the woman mad?’’ She saw how deeply the iron 
had penetrated his soul, and her bitterness gave place to re- 
gret. 

“Not with daggers, but just as effectually;” there was 
more of sadness than anger in this reply. 

When the world says that which is uncomplimentary of 
us, we often console ourselves with the consciousness that 
we are possessed of the knowledge of other facts that if 
known would be more uncomplimentary still. He suspected 
that she may have caught a glimpse of the skeleton in his 
closet; but she did not know its history, and that consoled 
him. 

If Judge Bullion had never before felt the truth of the 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


141 


adage at the head of this chapter, he was now more than 
fully convinced of it. He was the man ; the partner was the 
master of the situation. 


142 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“ First to the father who engenders, then to the mother who gives 
birth, then to the master who rears, then to the city that civilizes, then to 
the country which is the mother supreme, then to humanity who is the great 
ancestor.” 



O the fellow feeling that makes the suffering humanity 
of the world brothers, Julia owed everything in her 
successful carrying out of her plans; that made it 
possible for Ashton to escape. Without the aid of Mary, 
the nameless, she would have failed utterly, in all human 
probability. She had found much to thank God for in the 
lives of those who are leading, or rather suffering, a life of 
sin, because the laws of society have so decreed it. She had 
taken much interest in the good accomplished for the hope- 
lessly poor by the contributors of the * ‘ Open Air Fund.” 
She had decided to go among the occupants of the tenement 
houses and make a selection out of the vast number of un- 
fortunates, and give them the benefits of the fresh air. 


With this thought in her mind she took up her way 
along the same route one April day that she had gone in 
the month of November, but with a much lighter heart, 
though not entirely free from dread. She was aware that 
detectives were on her track, that they would follow her 
wherever she went. Strategy wins, because its very bold- 
ness has made the impossible its peculiar hand-maid ; she 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


143 


had verified this before, and was now willing to stake all on 
this view again. 

Therefore, with seeming unconcern, she walked leisurely 
along and went direct to Mary’s place. Neither to the 
right nor the left, did she cast a glance. She mounted the 
outside stairs as before, and again the door was opened to 
her. How different this meeting from the one described in 
a former chapter. The two women rushed into each other’s 
arms. The virgin maiden and the magdalene have again 
met on the same plain. Wherever the blood-stained foot- 
prints of the sufferer, who carries new crosses up new Cal- 
varys, leaves traces of bleeding feet, their legal fictions, cus- 
toms and conventionalities, harping over supposed goodness 
and super posed virtue, pale and fade in pityless gloom. 

The common mission of doing something for the good 
of humanity has ever made the world kin. A few hasty 
congratulations, a few thoughts exchanged and both women 
plunged headlong into the subject uppermost in their minds. 
What would they do for Kate and the children ? They must 
be provided for first. Julia had not seen Kate as yet, face 
to face; would they both call upon her? Mary hesitated. 
Would it be the proper thing fur Julia Bullion to be seen on 
the street with the most noted demi monde of the locality ? 

“You know,” said Julia, “how we used to gloat over 
the big, brave words of Emerson’s ‘ scorn appearances and 
you always may.’ Well, that is what I am going to do to- 
day ; that is what I am going to do to-morrow ; and that is 
what I am going to continue doing until I have shown the 


144 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


world that a woman can be a woman regardless of the hypo- 
critical cant that seeks to bind her to the shreds and patches 
that have so long covered the ulcers and blotches on the 
rotten old carcass of the dead past.” 

“Brave words, brave words, Julia, but then the world 
don’t respect you for being brave.” 

“ Let it do its worst then, and I will still be a woman.” 

“Since you are so gracious as to insist on my accompa- 
nying you I am delighted beyond measure to accept, and by 
way of recompense I will give you an introduction to my old 
German friend on the same floor with Kate.’’ 

“Your old German friend?” 

“Yes, real German.” 

“You amaze me! Have you gone into wholesale 
charity? First a street gamin, then an entire family, now 
an old German!” 

(< Yes, a real old German; he will delight you exceed- 
ingly.” 

“ Can he talk English?” 

“No one has heard him utter even a word of English. 
It makes me think of our school days.” 

“ Is he a professor?” 

“Not exactly; but he is wonderfully well posted, and 
takes a great interest in public affairs ; reads all the papers 
he can lay his hands upon. I think he saw Ashton the night 
of his escape.” 

Julia raised her finger as if she feared they might be 
heard by some one. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


145 


“ We are perfectly safe here” said Mary. “You could 
pour out your secret to every girl in the place, and it would 
be as safe with them as with you and me. We have lost every 
thing but honor and truthfulness, and we cling to that as we 
do to life.’’ 

They found Kate much improved in health and strength. 
The two older boys had been braver since they were clothed 
and had full stomachs. They were battling manfully, and were 
almost able to provide for the entire family. “Jaw-smith- 
Jim” was trying hard to pull himself out from under that 
sobriquet. Kate was quite overcome at the meeting. 

“ It was so kind in you girls to fix me up so well before 
you came to call on me,” said Kate smilingly. “You know 
I won’t tell you how much I thank you for what you have 
done, for that would be impossible.’’ 

“ Don’t mention it,” said Mary. 

“ Yes, but I must; I feel so much better this spring. I 
am braver, yet I shudder sometimes, though the sunshine 
looks like the rise of Austerlitz; I tremble lest its setting be 
that of Waterloo.” 

“At it again,” said Mary. 

“ Well, I cannot help it,” said Kate. “You see, Julia, 
Mary has an old German friend next door, and he just 
whiles away hour after hour for me with his delightful talk 
about those old time subjects that used to so fill me with de- 
light. He just makes one feel that he was personally ac- 
quainted with Dumas, Hugo, and Goethe. You will let 
Julia see him, won’t you, Mary?” 

10 


146 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ Yes, if she is good.’’ 

“We will just call on Mary’s old German friend for a 
minute, and see what he is most in need of, and then I want 
to see you on business.” 

“ On business! It has been so long since I have heard 
that word business that it has fled from my vocabulary,’’ said 
Kate. 

Julia and Mary called upon the old man. Julia made a 
note of the few little necessaries that he most stood in need 
of, and they took their leave. To the old man’s mind and 
vision they were angels. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


147 


CHAPTER XIX 

“There is a way that seemeth right unto a man; but the end thereof 
are the ways of death.” 



ULIA announced to Kate her intention to make the 
Hamilton Brothers, bankers, disgorge their plunder. 

* ‘ It is so much like you, Julia, ” cried Kate. 1 ‘ Oh, if 
you only could. Will your father help you, Julia?” 

“ Poor little goose,” said Julia, “my father help me?” 

“Don’t you think it is about time that we should stand 
alone ? I am an advocate for equality, and not for identity, 
simply, as somebody’s. My thought is that this is a day 
of progress ; that one and one are two. It is my purpose to 
call upon your brothers; lay your case before them; show 
them that I can prove that you are their sister; furnish 
them with the data from the days they came to see you 
graduate until this moment; that I can as clearly establish 
your identity as they can their own ; that you are no ‘Tich- 
bourne claimant.’ ” 

The last words were spoken with the air of the profes- 
sional lawyer that brought a smile from Mary. She clapped 
her hands and shouted, “ Ten Thousand a Year.” “ Quirk, 
Gammon & Snap.” “Julia, are you the * Oily Gammon ’ 
of your firm ? ” 

“There is no gammon about this; I will do all that I 
promise, as sure as fate.” 


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VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


On the following morning she went to the banking 
house of the Hamilton Brothers, bankers. She would have 
been glad to have had them recognize the claim of their 
sister at once and do her the speedy justice that she was 
entitled to; but then again there was two sides; two fronts 
to the shield. She wanted a foil to throw the detectives off 
her track. If she was compelled to bring suit to recover, 
then the public would know all about it and she could go 
at will through the tenement house and not be shadowed 
by the detectives. 

She presented Kate’s claims to the brothers. Her 
words were daggers to their hearts, they raved and stormed and 
cursed and swore that they never would pay one dollar to any 
imposter claiming to be their sister, and that they would 
spend half their fortune before they would submit to being 
robbed. Julia promptly filed her bill in chancery and began 
taking testimony. Before many days were spent in gather- 
ing evidence the brothers deemed it wise to make overtures 
for settlement. Julia said something about agreeing quickly 
with thine adversary in the way lest, etc. That the etc. had 
arrived, and that the only course by which she could see her 
way clear was to insist on their paying to their sister the last 
farthing, and they did. 

As Julia had foreseen, this course left her as free to 
come and go among the tenement house people as though 
she had never been implicated in the plot whereby Ashton 
had succeeded in gaining his freedom. She called upon 
Mary's old German friend without let or hinderance. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


149 


In the meantime she was not idle. If John Ashton was 
not morally bound to discover the party who had committed 
the murder the law would still seek to reek its vengeance 
upon him. Steps were immediately taken to find some clue 
to the tragedy that hung over the life of such a man and such 
a woman. 

Julia carried out her declaration made to her father to 
go to Europe in June. She went. Somewhat to her sur- 
prise no detective followed. She kept up a correspondence 
with Mary, inclosing a letter always to her old German friend. 


150 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XX 

“ Let others flatter crime where it sits throned 
In brief omnipotence! Secure are they; 

For justice, when triumphant, will weep down 
Pity, not punishment, on her own wrongs, 

Too much avenged by those who err.” 



HE man who boasts of man’s superiority over woman 
simply says thereby that he has never crossed 
with a woman who is a strategist ; for when he does 
he will change his mind. It is nature’s law that the strong 
and powerful are slow, heavy, ponderous ; while the weaker 
are fleet of foot and nimble. The minds that are not backed 
with powerful and muscular bodies have been provided and 
endowed with far more cunning and strategic power. 

Julia took her departure for Europe the middle of June, 
and was in London by July first. She had before going se- 
cured the best detective talent in the land to ferret out the 
instigators and perpetrators of the murder of Dr. Arlington, 
and to keep her posted as to the movements of those who 
still sought to compass the apprehension and recapture of 
Ashton. For shame be it, that there are in this advanced 
civilization sleuth-hounds, not of the law, but of crime, them- 
selves criminals. 


“ Ministers of pain and fear, 

And disappointment, and mistrust and hate, 

And clinging crime, and as lean dogs pursue 
Through wood and lake some struck and sobbing fawn.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


151 


These parasites of men 

“Track all things that weep and bleed and live.” 

By September, Julia was satisfied that it would be safe 
for Ashton to join her in the Alps. She prepared for his 
coming. 

As proof of Julia Bullion’s strategic power, let the reader 
but consider the part she has played in this tragedy. Her 
first visit to Mary’s place, which had long been known to her, 
was premeditated. She was also acquainted with the where- 
abouts of Kate Hamilton. She had kept trace of these beau- 
tiful and handsomest of her school day friends. She had 
communicated to Ashton by means of short hand, at which 
both were experts, and could translate each the other’s notes ; 
her views and the possibilities of finding, with these two 
former friends, a secure hiding place. He as promptly 
answered that if he did escape and was afterward recaptured 
he would be hanged. Her laconic reply was, “You’ll be 
hanged if you don’t. ” He mused and pondered and dreamed 
over this view of the situation, and after due deliberation, 
replied, “It is betweeen the devil and the deep sea; it 
can’t be any the worse, make the arrangements.” 

Julia’s view of the case was this: Call upon Mary, en- 
list her in the enterprise if possible, for she must have a con- 
federate; have Mary engage a room in the tenement house 
and take the place of Ashton in the carriage, and drive to 
the city of C. disguised as Ashton. 

To all of her plans Mary readily assented. Julia had 
her go to another city and procure the wig and gray beard 


152 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


and gray slouch hat described in a former chapter. She 
met Ashton as he emerged from the jail and gave him this 
disguise as he passed from the alley to the place where he 
found the team in waiting, she exchanging hats with him 
and taking the closed carriage, and he following the direction 
before given the “ old German.” 

The detectives had been as completely check mated and 
thrown off the trail as if Ashton had gone in a hole in the 
ground. The role of the old German friend was played by 
Ashton with such consummate skill that no one ever sus- 
pected him as being Ashton. Added to this disguise was 
the place he occupied. Sp completely is the tenement house 
victim cut off from society that Ashton was as absolutely 
buried as if he had been sunk in mid ocean. 

By the timely and handsome manner in which Julia had 
rescued Kate Hamilton from this living hell she had dis- 
armed all suspicion as to Ashton being in that vicinity, if 
there had been any suspicion entertained that he was still in 
this couutry. Then her early departure for Europe made 
him comparatively safe in his hiding place. When the 
proper time came for his departure he had gone to Castle 
Garden, and when a favorable opportunity presented itself, 
represented himself as one of the paupers just arrived, and 
requested that he be returned to his native land. The ruse 
worked like a charm, and Ashton made his escape without 
the least suspicion attaching to his departure. Julia had 
kept up a correspondence with Kate and Mary without being 
suspected by the detectives, and they had in turn commun- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


153 


icated all necessary information to Ashton ; and it was with 
very little difficulty that they met in Paris in the early part 
of September. 

But the law was not satisfied as yet. Ashton, with the 
aid of a woman possessed of great strategic forethought, had 
played his Austerlitz on the chess board of life; might not 
his next move prove his Elba, his Waterloo, his St. Helena? 

To two such minds, fugitives from justice was the most 
galling yoke to be borne. After securing a hiding place for 
Ashton, Julia returned home; just one year from the date on 
which Dr. Arlington had met his death. 


154 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXI 

“ Providence conducts to maturity, by the law of universal life, men, 
things, and events.” 

ETON’S jail delivery had a double effect: it took 
him out of harm’s way for at least the time being, 
and roused the latent talent of the detectives. 
These man-hunters having lost the scent on one trail, were 
now diligently in search of some other. Their deep-mouthed 
baying had the effect to scare up one or two suspected par- 
ties, with no other result than to have them in durance vile 
for a short time and then turn them out. 

The real murderer had been roused from his lair, he be- 
gan to bestir himself. Julia had put ’.his and that together; 
she reasoned that the perpetrator had been an expert at dis- 
guising himself and personating Ashton. She was fully sat- 
isfied that the man who procured the dagger obtained it in 
that way, The next thing was to find how the man suc- 
ceeded in getting into the private office and the means by 
which he had escaped. He had a key to the side door, no 
doubt, and the next thing was tu find where that had been 
made. She put the detectives on this clue. A year dulls 
the memory of the average man, and no one could tell any 
thing about it or what had been done in their places of bus- 
iness a year before. 

If the real perpetrator was not apprehended by this 



VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 155 

much-beating about the bush it would lead to suicide or 
flight. 

The criminal classes are the children of darkness, and 
in their day and generation they are wiser than the children 
of light. It is truly wonderful how much the criminals of 
this country know both as to the law and the procedure in 
the courts, the grades of crime and the penalties attached. 


It has often been observed that one-half of the world 
does not know how the other half lives. It is equally as true 
that nine-tenths of the American people do not know who 
are their next door neighbors. If our forefathers were 
wonderfully ignorant of the scope and extent of this goodly 
land, their descendants know but little more about its length 
and breadth, its plains, its rivers, its lakes, its mountain 
fastnesses. Yet with all its vastness it is wonderful how the 
story of each individual’s life follows after him, and how 
unexpectedly ghosts seem to arise from the abyss. 

To day the pine clad hills of New England, and the 
treeless plains of the Mississippi valley, and the trackless 
sands of the golden shores are nearer neighbors than Bos- 
ton and Providence were in colonial days. The New 
England traveler ‘‘plunges into the sunlit glory of the 
Sacramento and thunders on through the fairest fields of 
the continent toward the infant colossus of cities sitting 
serenely by the side of earth’s mightiest ocean,” while yet 
the moisture of his prattling babe’s cheek, nestling in its 


156 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Atlantic home, is still fresh upon his lips. Land of wonder 
and of love! 

Two men stood on the shores of Puget Sound, early in 
the month of June. They looked round them, they could 
hardly realize that eight days before they had exchanged 
glances as they wandered through the old “Boston Com- 
mon.” Their meeting then had been by chance, strange 
that they next should meet in this to, them, secluded spot. If 
they had slept the entire journey they could easily have 
argued themselves into believing that they were now in some 
New England town. The language of the men about them 
had not even a sound that was not perfectly familiar to their 
ears. The hotel at which they had breakfasted was called 
the “New England Hotel,’’ and how homelike. Even the 
real “Boston Baked Beans” had found their way to that 
coast. How suggestive these three “ B’s ” be? But an- 
other name for the blood, brains and bullion of Boston. 

As these two men stood on the wharves of that busy, 
bustling, enterprising city and watched the ships as they 
came and went, the immense quantities of freight, its desti- 
nation, New York, Boston, San Francisco, Australia, the 
Sandwich Islands, and the thousand and one intermediate 
points, there was a marked contrast in the different expres- 
sion of the two faces. The thoughts that were going 
through their minds were very different, but at last leading 
to the same end. 

It is so natural now-days to be separated from youi 
neighbor by nothing but a brick wall, and hurry by hirr 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


157 


morning, noon and night for days, weeks, months and years 
and not know even his name; and when separated from 
home by thousands of miles of sea and land to feel that you 
have found a brother when by chance you stumble on to a 
fellow townsman. How communicative you are, and at the 
same time how sneakingly mean the past looks to you as 
you think back over the days you have passed that neighbor 
without a nod, without a smile, without a word. Then you 
realize why the traveled people are the social as well as the 
cultured people. Then you make high resolves and vows 
that when at home again that you will even apologize to 
your neighbor’s dog for your unfriendliness only to see how 
soon your tentacles for brotherly love begin to shrink and 
draw back as you near home. 

As the two men stood contemplating the surroundings 
that evening in June an immense bank of clouds of dark 
marine blue slowly lifted their bulky and huge forms sky- 
ward. As they spread out and filled the entire western 
heaven they were crowded for space, and seemed pushing 
closer and closer together until their colossal peaks loomed 
up and stood out so clear, so well defined, so dark against 
the illimitable expanse of heaven’s blue that they looked 
veritable peaks ; then the two strangers turned and cast a 
glance backward at “Old Ranier ” that had for centuries 
sparkled with its ice covered, snow capped summit in every 
returning springtime’s sunlight; then for the first time they 
realized and comprehended that greatness and grandeur are 
only relative. One of earth’s oldest, loftiest, and grandest 


158 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


solitary peaks ; rock-ribbed and crystalized with centuries of 
ice, and snow, and storm, and sunshine had shrunken into a 
mere speck, a mole hill, compared with these gigantic out- 
lines, that only flecked as it were the merest point in the 
broad expanse of immensity. 

They look again. Now the entire western heaven is 
obscured; this dark monster has moved up until it has 
reached the zenith. How imposing, how magnificently 
grand, this great world of darkness looms up. From 
whence? Whither? It is the frown of the Infinite. How 
majestically it rises out of the inane; how calmly it will set- 
tle into the abyss. 

Now, each separate peak seems touched with glory 
round its well defined edges ; first, there is the steel gray of 
the early dawn; then the roseate tints of morning; not 
brightening into white light, but empurpled until as if incar- 
nadined with an ocean of blood ; streaked with great rivers 
of crimson, touched off from the bright red with orange, 
yellow, blue that melts again into blue-black. It is the sport- 
ing of the Master’s pencil. One majestic line and all this is 
changed. The silvery peaks dissolve, and melt, and roll 
down the illimitable blue and fleck the purple sides with their 
kindling light-like spray that dashes over the ocean’s purple 
wave. The dark abyss is now a sparkling fountain of red 
and gold; where a moment ago the sharp peaks stood out 
so defiantly and boldly, mountains are now piled up ; peak 
buried beneath rising peak. 

At the horizon the dark, solid masses begin to break 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


159 


away, forming an archway through which the light seems to 
be struggling. Just over this archway, high in the heavens, 
there is a rift in the great banks ; the heavy masses are sepa- 
rating; the dark purple front shows a silvery lining in the 
back-ground. The breach is widening from the zenith toward 
the horizon. Huge massive cliffs project out into the open- 
ing, luminous with light and shadow. On the right these 
jutting cliffs stand almost upright, one above the other, until 
they are as high as heaven. Then they begin to spread out 
into thin, fleecy canopy — white, and gray, and blue, and 
red, and move off toward the receding masses on the left. 
Here the huge bulks that had separated from those on the 
right were toppling over each other in chaotic sport. The 
dark purple fronts reflected their colors upon the brighter 
light back of them, until bronze, and blue, and gray, and 
orange, and yellow, and red, all commingled as if struggling 
for the mastery. Immense caverns, deep gorges, and wide 
valleys shone superbly grand between the front banks and 
the higher mountains that had reared their heads in the back- 
ground. 

On the right, the strong light was chasing away the 
barriers. Large, filmy streaks of concentrated sunlit flakes 
were suspended in mid heaven, their changing forms and 
sides reminding the observer of dissolving views. While on 
the left the perpendicular mountains showed a bold front; the 
light striking full and fair against the sides, lighting up every 
chink and cranny until they looked frosted with hoary headed 
age. The purple blue came up so bold, so strong against 


160 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


the illumined edges that it semed as though the veil of the 
Infinite was being thrown over the sombre clouds of dark 
night. Then still farther in the distance weird mountains 
rose until whole peaks stood out clear and bold and white as 
snow. And over all this was white flecks of vapory 
clouds, a veil of mellow light. O strange, grand, luminous 
sight, such a disporting of the Infinite is never again “the 
prey of setting suns,’’ will never be “blurred with mist of 
after-thought.’’ 

The two strangers drew closer together in this, to them, 
strange land, the approaching night seemed to make them 
nearer akin. The gray, eagle eye of the short, thick-set 
man looked up searchingly into the face of his taller, 
younger companion. As the stout man’s soft, sleek hand 
deftly crept between the coat-sleeve of his companion and 
his body, and lay confidingly on the fore arm, his experi- 
enced hand felt a shiver running through that tall, slight 
frame by his side. With half smile and half question that 
gray eye again peered into the face above it. How blanched 
and ghastly it looked now. “See, what did you say your 
name was?” asked the stout thick set man. 

“Pickins.” 

“ Your given name? ’’ 

‘•James,” he bethought himself, “James F.,” slightly 
coloring. “The F’s for Ferguson, I usually write it J. Fer- 
guson when away from home, omitting the Pickins entirely.” 

That very pointed little question mark almost escaped 
the lips of the stout man but he caught it in his teeth. “O, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


161 


yes, J. Ferguson, Boston, that’s the way you registered; I 
remember now, how stupid for me to ask.’’ 

J. Ferguson was a tall, slender man with square shoul- 
ders, very straight and erect, with light, springy, elastic step 
that bespoke strong nervous tension, the air of an athlete, 
trained and developed muscle, not large, but of iron tenac- 
ity, keen black eyes that were shaded by heavy dark brown 
brows, square forehead, high and clear, hair of jet black, 
drooping mustaches, same color, that half concealed his 
mouth, which marked the man, and plainly said, a hero if 
need be, a man of intellectual mould, of high resolve; a 
power for good if started in the right direction ; a powerful 
villain if once in the meshes of sin and wrong. A graduate 
of one of the best of the eastern universities, having car- 
ried off the honors of his class. The life and soul of his 
team in the rush for the ball, a strong oar in his crew. 

The color came and went on that finely-moulded face as 
he sat on a pile of lumber that evening in June and gazed 
out on the deep, rolling waters of Puget Sound, He was 
musing, forge' ful of his companion’s presence; his mind had 
gone back to his New England home; his victories in the 
boat races on other waters. The splashing waves sent the 
spray up in his face. It roused him from his revery. He 
drew his elegant silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, 
wiped the salty foam from his lips, startled and amazed, as 
one just waking from healthful sleep. “Salt! by Jove,” 
said he, “and so cool; tide water, sure as your born.” His 
outstretched hand held his handkerchief. He let it fall, re- 
11 


162 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


covered it, and let it rest lightly on his knee; a corner stir- 
red by the breeze slipped out, falling down over his leg re- 
vealed the initials “ J. Q. L. ” 

He took no notice of himself; he was thinking of old 
ocean, its tides, its sunshine and storm ; thoughts stirred by 
the rushing waters of the incoming tide. His companion 
was studying him, taking note of his every action. Turning 
sharply round to the stout man at his side, “ Did you know 
that we were on the arm of the Pacific ?’’ “It had not oc- 
curred, to me before.” 

The color of his face that showed so plainly when his 
companion inquired for his name but a short time before 
deepened as he discovered that the initials of his handkerchief 
had been seen by the piercing gray eyes of the man at his 
elbow. 

He arose quickly, looked at a small sail boat just ap- 
proaching the wharf near by, and suggested that they take 
a walk as the air was getting quite cool. They strolled up 
by the plaza, then to the higher ground on up by the univer- 
sity building and back to the hotel. 

Mr. Ferguson had the air of a man ill-at ease; his stout 
companion wore a self-satisfied look. 

“I am very much fatigued,’’ said Ferguson. “ I will 
be obliged to deprive myself of the pleasure of your com- 
pany for the balance of the evening,” he said to his stout 
companion, and with a slight waive of the hand and a grace- 
ful bow, remarked “pleasant dreams to you, good-night.” 

“ Life, like a dome of many colored glass, 

Stains the white radiance of eternity.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


163 


CHAPTER XXII 

“ When the earth is suffering from an excessive burden, there are mys- 
terious groans from the shadow, which the abyss hears.” 



HE busy, pulsing, throbbing mart of Seattle was a far 
different place from what the university man of New 
England had pictured in his mind. From being a 
quiet, secluded spot where he might find some of the creature 
comforts and more seclusion from the prying eyes of men, he 
found it a thriving, growing, populous city. Instead of a 
few light canoes of the Indian gliding swiftly over the waters 
of this inland sea, he found the lords of the deep plowing 
through its salty foam, riding safely at anchor in one of the 
finest and safest land-locked harbors on the globe. He found 
besides familiar New England names, faces, books, papers, 
periodicals, lawyers, doctors, college professors, merchants, 
bankers, artisans, and more than all that, a keen, shrewd 
yankee, just from home, who seemed bent on covering his 
j very footsteps with question marks. What did he mean? 

On the morrow he would take the necessary steps to 
separate himself from this man. Companions are agreeable 
in a strange land if they are not so deeply concerned in 
finding out more about your business than they are inter- 
ested in sight-seeing. “How painfully penetrating his 
looks,” remarked Ferguson to himself. 

“Old Lynxy” had observed that Ferguson was a little 


164 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


restive on parting that evening and he was the first to say 
that he would not go out the following morning according 
to the arrangements the evening previous to enjoy a horse- 
back ride to lake Washington. Ferguson was inwardly 
pleased, but as politeness always does, puts its lie in the 
wrong place, covered his satisfaction with a faint shadow 
of outward disappointment, and remarked that he regretted 
exceedingly that he would not have the pleasure of his 
company, but as he had engaged the horses he would go 
and settle the bill for both and set out with a guide. 
The liveryman furnished him with two good horses, an 
intelligent stable boy as a companion, and he was soon on 
his way to this beautiful, now suburban, lake. 

Ferguson made good use of his eyes, his ears, and 
memory. The boy had been “up and down the sound,” 
and knew every nook and corner from Tacoma to the straits 
of Juan De Fucca. Ferguson was in better spirits when he 
returned to his hotel late in the evening. He felt sure that 
he had gained a few points that would enable him to elude 
“Old Lynxy.” 

He kept his own counsels, however, and on the follow- 
ing day secured his companion of the previous one for a pull 
on the water. The boy developed such a wonderful amount 
of “pay dirt,” as he would himself say, that Ferguson de- 
termined after the “white ash’’ breeze to start the wind in 
another quarter. The result was “a blow out” with the 
boys. Ferguson retired later in the night than he had done 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


165 


since his arrival on the coast, with considerable more experi- 
ence and a correspondingly lessened “roll’’ of the needful. 

He breakfasted rather late the following morning, and 
on going into the office was somewhat relieved to learn that 
his stout friend from the east had paid his bill and gone “up 
the sound.” This was a sufficiently good reason for him to 
go “down the sound.” Accordingly he went by the next 
regular boat, leaving at nine o’clock in the evening. 

Ferguson’s ruling passion was gambling. He had 
squandered an immense patrimony left him by a deceased 
uncle. He had been able to gather up enough to get to the 
“wild and wooly west,” as he supposed, thinking that he 
could regain his lost fortune over the “green cloth,” and 
return to the east, where he conceived the wise men origin- 
ally came from and still lived. He had found Seattle very 
different from the picture he had drawn in his imagination, 
in fact, his picture of the north-west was only wholly of the 
imagination, and in no way would apply to anything he had 
seen. Even the gambling was conducted on an entirely 
different basis from that he had been accustomed to see 
and engage in; the noble red man was not the superior 
type of humanity he had pictured him to be. In fact, he 
was lost to know how so many of his New England brethren 
who had left handsome, intelligent, cultured women and 
bright, prattling babes in their civilized homes, could so far 
forget themselves, their manhood, and Christian teachings, 
and influences, as to desert these same wives and children 
and rear families of half-breeds with hideous faced “flat head 


166 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Squaws” for mothers. The greatest reproach that could be 
heaped upon one of these dusky maidens of the forest being 
“your mother was too lazy to flatten your head.” 

At seven in the morning following the evening whereon 
he had left Seattle, the boat rounded-to at Port Ludlow ; he 
was not particularly struck with the appearance of this little 
collection of cottages, so he inquired for the next landing; 
and was told that it was Port Gamble. That name had 
charms for him, it was suggestive ; strange that he had not 
observed that name when he was looking over the map for 
an objective point to drop down upon. He inquired the 
reason for such a name being selected for a town on the 
Sound. He manifested more than ordinary interest in the 
town when he learned that the place had formerly been 
known as Teekalet, but that owing to the fact that it had 
become notorious for its gambling the name was changed to 
the more appropriate one of “Gamble.” This was the 
place of all others that he was looking for, and in a very 
short space of time Port Gamble appeared in sight as the 
steamer rounded one of the many points on the Sound. It 
was but a few minutes until the landing was made and 
Ferguson was on his way to the only hotel in the place, 
the “Teekalet House.” 

He noticed the same scrawling hand of “Old Lynxy” 
that he had observed on the hotel register at Seattle. He 
inquired for the man who had registered as John Anderson. 
He was pointed out to him in a few minutes by the clerk. 
The sleek-headed, smooth-faced Yankee now wore a heavy 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


167 


beard of iron gray, a gray wig, and gray suit of clothes to 
match. If this disguise was intended to deceive Ferguson it 
had failed utterly, for no sooner had Ferguson caught sight 
of him than he recognized his man. It was now his turn to 
chaff “ Old Lynxy v on his change of appearance and name. 
This he did in a cool, nonchalence way that almost caused 
“ Old Lynxy ’’ to doubt his former judgment as to whether 
he was on the trail of the right man. 

“ When did you come down?” said Ferguson. 

“ Has it been so long ago that you needs must ask?” 
answered “Old Lynxy.” 

“The clerk at the New England told me that you had 
gone up the sound ; but I felt sure that I should find you in 
just the opposite direction, for that is characteristic of the 
down-easter, you know,” said Ferguson 

The manner of Ferguson at the time was the thing that 
puzzled his stout companion more than what he said; for now 
he was all smiles, and his sombre look had fled and no man 
could be gayer. 

“ Have something,” said Ferguson. 

“ Don’t care if I do,” said “Old Lynxy.” 

“ Name your pizen,” said Ferguson. 

“ Whisky.” 

“Two straights,” said Ferguson. 

They drank, and after a few common-place remarks 
Ferguson withdrew ; he was anxious to see the town and 
learn from what source he might expect the revenue from 
which a man in his line was to draw his supplies. His stout 


168 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


companion was equally anxious to know more of his friend 
who registered as Ferguson and carried a handkerchief with 
initials that did not correspond with the initials of his name. 
He at once sought out a man he had observed getting off 
the boat on which Ferguson had been a passenger ; of him 
he made inquiries as to his friend while coming from Seattle. 
“Old Lynxy” learned that Ferguson had been drinking 
some and had gambled nearly all the night, and seemed anx- 
ious to reach Gamble. The stranger remarked to “Old 
Lynxy” that his friend had a sort of wild gleam in his eyes 
when he talked of gambling. ‘‘ A profesh ’spose.” 

“ We’ll see,’’ remarked “Lynxy.” 


The bar and gambling room at this resort is one long room 
with billiard tables down the center of the floor, and the 
card tables strung along the sides of the room, with the bar 
in one corner. 

The occasions, on which the most money changes hands 
of late years, are when the mill men employed in the saw mills 
of The Puget Mill Company are paid off. The Saturday nights 
and Sundays, and Sunday nights are simply pandemonium 
let loose. 

Ferguson had come at the opportune time. The men 
were to be paid off that day, and he was ready for the fray. 
The game was one he had never seen played in the east, but 
b :ing as he said “ a slick carder,” he had picked up some of 
the points and had decided to take a hand at the first favor- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


169 


able opportunity. Among the rules of the game at that time 
were these — “ no borrowing, no lending, playing your pile 
insight” — the latter expression meaning that each player 
must place the sum he desires to hazard on the game on the 
table where it can be seen before he “ sits in’’ to play. The 
game is known as “stud poker” and is what a gambler would 
term, a game for table stakes — that is, no one is allowed to 
borrow or lend to another while engaged in the game and 
placing the entire amount in sight of all the players before 
the cards are dealt. 

The dealer shuffles the cards and without cutting, deals 
each player a single card, face down — which is said to be 
buried — this the player is allowed to look at before he anties. 
All cards dealt after this first, are dealt face up, so that all the 
players have an opportunity to see what the others have in 
their hands, with the exception of the first one dealt. 

The knowledge of what the player has buried, the cards 
in sight, and those still in the dealer’s hands, give rise to 
varied ranges of probabilities and speculations ; skill in ma- 
nipulating the paste-board ; judgment and cool calculation, 
together with nerve and the nature of the men in the game; 
what they will do under the strong feeling of the moment, 
all combined with coolness and the power to read the 
thoughts of antagonists as betrayed in their faces and actions, 
tend to make this a game peculiarly interesting to the minds 
of Ferguson’s make-up. 

In Rome, Ferguson would do as the Romans did. 1 1 com- 
pany with a pack of wolves he would howl the equal of any 


170 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


of them. He selected the table at which he thought he saw 
the best chance of winning, after making the rounds of the 
room and taking note of the appearances and manners of the 
different men engaged. He had observed the sleek profession- 
al, stolid behind his sparkling diamonds, his apparent self-satis- 
faction with his faultless attire ; the head sawyer of the mills ; 
the common laborer; the ^ ‘ jolly tar;” the man from the 
loging camp; “John,” the almond-eyed celestial ; the wait- 
ers and cooks on steamers, and the adventurers like himself. 
As some unfortunate player lost his “ pile” and withdrew, 
some other knight of the green cloth took his place. Fer- 
guson watched his chance and promptly filled the breach, 
first asking permission of course, politeness being one of the 
virtues gamblers all hold to and treasure up, thereby flattering 
themselves that this, in a sort of a way, makes amends for 
the loss of more weighty characteristics, which go to make 
up the full complement of a man that they feel somehow to 
have sacrificed in their choice of calling. 

Ferguson was a conspicuous figure in that motley crow d. 
His finely moulded head, his handsome face, every feature 
clear and distinct in its outline, as superbly chiseled by cul- 
ture, education, and social refinement, as a cameo. It was 
such a sight as might have made an angel weep. Even a 
casual observer in passing by might have been heard to mut- 
ter to himself, soto-voce , “ Another man gone wrong.’’ 

He drew a handful of gold and silver coins from his pock- 
et, placed them on the table before him, pushed his hands 
through his wealth of black curls, drawing them down over 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


171 


the forehead and brows, gave his carefully trained mustaches 
a gentle stroking, set his collar straight under his chin, turned 
his diamond ring to exactly the right point to catch the full- 
est rays of the light, compressed his lips, banished all expres- 
sion from his face, until his whole head and frame seemed as 
emotionless as marble statuary. It was the preparation 
of the gladiator summoning up his courage, stiffening his sin- 
ews, extending his nostrils wide, inhaling .to his fullest ex- 
pansion, combined with the trained and cultured marshalling 
of his mental forces by the intellectual athlete. Strange 
that great learning, brilliant parts, and rich, natural endow- 
ments should thus be perverted. Ruination, yet magnifi- 
cent in its ruins. 

The play began with indifferent success ; first one and 
then another of the three men losing while the fourth was 
stacking the coins in a neat pile before him. Decks of cards 
were thrown on the floor one after the other in rapid succes- 
sion for fear that they had been tampered with by some one 
of the players. By midnight one of the men had lost his last 
bit ’’ and silently withdrew. Ferguson had lost and won 
and lost again ; his pile was getting small and smaller. It 
seemed that his last dollar would soon be gone, then, as if 
by magic, another dollar would take its place. His antago- 
nists’ suspicions were aroused. They played on and on, 
Ferguson still losing; all was well until one of the others 
began losing; then he said, “pardon me, Mister, but one of 
the rules of this game is, that no man goes down in his 


172 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


pocket for money; you play your pile in sight as gentlemen 
do or there will be trouble here.” 

Ferguson raised his eyes, but said nothing; at the next 
deal he lost; his luck changed and he was loser until his last 
“ bit” was played; as he tossed it on the table another dollar 
was under his hand ; again the player who had first called his 
attention to the rules of the game, said, “ I thought I told 
you that it was against the rules of this game to go down in 
your clothes for more stuff? ’’ 

Ferguson, with the air of the cool, collected man that 
he was, said, “ It is my last dollar, you better have it; you 
are welcome to it.” The man who had last dealt looked at 
him with a puzzled gaze; “you’re a good one,” and shoved 
the cards over to Ferguson to deal. 

This time Ferguson took in the money; as he did so 
both men looked at him and then at each other ; the man 
who had first objected, said, “see here, stranger, that won’t 
do.” 

“ What won’t do?” said Ferguson, “I noticed that as 
long as you were winner you continued to take my money; 
it is only when you are loser that you object.” It was brains 
and strategy against rules. 

“You’re running in a cold deck on us, and I won’t 
have it.’’ 

Ferguson’s eyes flashed fire. “Be quiet, my friend, 
you was the first to object in this game; if you don’t like it, 
suppose you quit. If you had objected when I was loser I 
would have gone out; but it don’t come with good grace 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


173 


from a gentleman to violate the rules of his own game when 
he is winner, and then object when his opponent has the 
better of him.” 

Both men now placed their revolvers on the table beside 
them. It was Ferguson’s deal. In a few minutes they were 
both dissatisfied; they saw they were being fleeced by a 
stranger; there were no words this time. When Ferguson 
reached out his hand for the stakes, the man opposite him 
caught up his gun in the twinkling of an eye and fired. Fer- 
guson fell from his chair and rolled on the floor with a ball 
through his left breast. 




174 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXIII 


“To-morrow ever does its work irresistibly and does it to-day, and it 
ever strangely attains its object.” 


“Old Lynxy’s ” turn now. He had shadowed 
man for more than a year. He had dogged his 
footsteps through every city in the East ; traced him 
from New York to San Francisco and back to New York and 
west again, up the coast and at last made his acquaintance 
on board the cars running from Bismarck to Seattle. 

Ferguson was an alias . His real name was John Q. 
Legendre ; descended from an ancient and highly respectable 
family of French Huguenots. Legendre and Fred Bullion 
had been boys together. Legendre had acquired the habit 
of gambling while in college, and had at different times found 
a friend in Fred when in straits for ready money. The habit 
grew upon him with his age until he had lost his entire for- 
tune. He had no profession, .no trade, and when he found 
himself without money and without friends, he turned 
naturally to the friend of his youth. He allowed himself to 
become the recipient of Fred Bullion’s gold, until he felt 
himself under deep and lasting obligations to the man who 
had thus discommoded himself to assist him. 

In the month of October, before the death of Dr. Ar- 
lington, he was hard pressed, sorely in need of more money, 
something had to be done. He appealed to Fred in such a 



VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


175 


way that nothing but a full disclosure of Fred’s financial em- 
barrassments would satisfy him or be accepted as a refusal. 
Fred was in hard lines himself. He needed money in his 
business. If he could only consummate his plans he could 
then draw on his uncle for the needful ; but how Legendre 
succeeded in obtaining money from Fred can best be told in 
his own dying words. 


“Old Lynxy,” as the detective had been nick-named 
by his associates in crime, had a sort of presentiment. He 
afterward said that something was going to happen that 
night, and he had determined to see the outcome of the play. 
Ferguson did not speak after the shot was fired. “Old 
Lynxy ” was the first to reach him and raise up his head. 
He seemed to half regain consciousness and was helped to a 
sitting posture, and in a few minutes was assisted to a chair. 

The men at the table had taken their money and disap- 
peared. Ferguson looked at “Old Lynxy,’’ and then at his 
stake, and indicated that he take charge of it, which he ac- 
cordingly did, Ferguson nodding assent. 

Preparations were speedily made to get the wounded 
man to his room. He was evidently bleeding internally. 
There was no physician at the port at that time, and nothing 
could be done for the sufferer. The ball that had been fired 
was a large one ; from the improved self-cocking Colt revol- 
ver, and had passed entirely through the body and was found 
in his underwear. “Old Lynxy ” knew that his time was 


176 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


short, and he was determined to make the best of the situa- 
tion. 

When the wounded man had been made as comfortable 
as it was possible for him to be under the circumstances, 
“ Old Lynxy ” said, “ I am afraid my dear old boy that you 
are done for.” Ferguson looked up and seemed to say with 
his eyes, “you are right.” “Old Lynxy” then began to 
spread his net. 

“ Anything you would like to say, any word or message 
to a friend, or anything you would like to — to unbosom 
yourself of?” 

Ferguson looked at the man now sitting by his side; 
he knew his purpose; he knew that he had shadowed 
him for thousands of miles. “Yes,” said Ferguson, 
“there is one thing I want to say to you, you are not half 
so smart as you think you are; you have been on my track 
for a year; you have employed all your art to trap me; you 
are working for a reward; you are one of the human fiends 
that manage to live by tracking men your betters; your pur- 
pose has been to apprehend me and have me convicted and 
hanged for the murder of Dr. Arlington.” He was breath- 
ing hard, and it was with great difficulty that he was able to 
talk. He paused a moment, and then resumed. “You see 
how fruitless have been all your efforts; so they always would 
have been. I feel now that I have but a few hours at the out- 
side to live. I am duty bound to make full reparation for all I 
have done so far as it is in my power so to do.” Even in his 
struggle with death there was a fierce look on his face as he 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


177 


turned his eyes on ‘‘Old Lynxy.” “Call in a gentleman 
with as strong an emphasis on the last word as he was able 
to give it — “and I will tell him what I know of this murder 
of Dr. Arlington.” A third party was soon in attendance, 
and “Old Lynxy” was ready to reduce the statement to 
writing. 

The dying man asked to be raised a little higher, as he 
felt a smothering sensation coming over him. When they 
had elevated his head and shoulders he seemed to breathe 
easier. Addressing himself to the stranger who had come 
in at his request, he said: 

“I know that I am dying; that there is no possible 
hope for my recovery, and I wish to save an innocent man 
from the gallows. That man is John Ashton, a lawyer, now 

{ >elieved to be in Switzerland, who was tried and convicted 
or killing Dr. Arlington in his — Ashton’s — private office, 

a year ago last November, in the city of B., State of . 

He is not guilty of the crime. Neither am I. Further than 
that, I might be presumed to be an accessory before the fact; 
but in reality I am not an accessory. The real murderer was 
drowned off the Atlantic coast, near Marble Head, last June, 
Eibout a year ago now. 

My connection with the matter was this: I was in need 
money. Fred Bullion could get it for me if he could 

1 lurry along his wedding day. This I knew, and had the 
iromise of money when that event would transpire. John 
\shton was the law partner of Judge Bullion and his daugh- 
er, Julia, whom Fred Bullion expected to marry. But those 
12 




278 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


persons having the best opportunity for knowing the real 
facts in the case seemed to think that the daughter preferred 
her partner to Fred. In fact, Fred as much as intimated this 
to me himself. In my last interview with Fred, before the 
murder was committed, he said, ‘ You see I am not married, 
and to complicate matters Dr. Arlington has appeared on the 
scene. Julia is paying him some attention, not because 
she cares anything for him, but she wants to play us ofi 
against each other, and when she has sent us both to drink or 
the devil, she will marry Ashton. That’s how I see it now. 
If they were out of the way I might stand a show to win, 
not otherwise.’ 

“This was all he said. I did not want to involve him 
in any way by an overt act or suggestion. I knew nothing 
of Ashton other than that he was a lawyer and the adviser 
of Dr. Arlington ; but I was satisfied that I knew a party 
that could solve the difficulty without in any way involving 
Fred or myself. I had no thought that Ashton would be so 
seriously involved that he would not be able to extricate him- 
self, neither did I intend that the party who did the act 
should commit murder to compass his ends. 

“I disguised myself as Ashton after going to the court 
house and studying his make-up. My principal kept me 
posted as to Ashton’s whereabouts on the two different occa- 
sions that I visited Ward’s place for the purpose of obtaining 
the dagger, I left the detail of arranging the other matters 
with the real murderer, who knew both Ashton and Arling- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 179 

ton, and was better acquainted with the office hours of the 
two men. 

“I wrote the note purporting to come from Ashton, 
after I had studied some legal documents written by him. 
The man who did the deed duplicated the keys to Ashton’s 
office and secreted himself in the office while Ashton was at 
lunch. He took Ashton’s key out of the lower lock and 
i placed it on the floor; arranged the night lock so that he 
could open the door quickly when the work was done. 

“The coal bin was just opposite the door where he 
made his exit. When he struck the fatal blow and got out 
of the room he darted into the coal bin and locked it from 
the inside with a key he had previously prepared. There 
; was a scuttle hole at the rear end of the coal bin leading out on 
the inner court of the building; through this he escaped to 
a ladder, climbed out the sky-light, and when darkness came 
on he passed down on the rear fire escape. After Ashton’s 
escape he became frightened and his drowning was suicidal. 

“Fred Bullion knows nothing of these facts, nor who 
did the impersonation of Ashton, or who committed the 
crime. I have since reminded him of his promise to aid me 
when he saw his way clear to the marriage, and being afraid 

( that suspicion would point to him in some way if some other 
matters were known, he has always supplied me with all the 
money that he could conveniently advance me. This is all 
I care to say.” 

“ Old Lynxy ” was able to get a full and complete state- 
ment of the dying man’s utterances, for it was with great 


180 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


difficulty that he was able to talk, being compelled to make 
frequent pauses owing to his hard, labored breathing and 
coughing. 

After he had rested a few minutes, the detective asked 
him if he cared to hear his statement read for the purpose of 
seeing if it was correct. Ferguson nodded assent, and it 
was read by “ Old Lynxy.” 

The dying man lay quite motionless while the reading 
was going on, with an occasional interruption caused by his 
coughing. When the end was reached, he gasped for breath, 
and in a paroxysm of coughing he said, “ My God, has it 
come to this!” When he had recovered slightly the detec- 
tive asked him if it was correct, and if he was willing to sub- 
scribe his name to the statement. He expressed his willing- 
ness. It was placed before him and a pen put in his hand. 
“ Sign your real name,” said the detective. Ferguson threw 
a significant glance at him and wrote John Q. Legendre. 

“ Water, water! ” it was placed to his lips; he turned on 
his side as if to allow the blood to flow from his mouth, 
threw up his right arm and fell back on the pillow, dead ! 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


181 


CHAPTER XXIV 

“Over all events, all means and ends in this world, there rules God’s 
inscrutable sovereignty.” 



HE following morning the detective wired Julia an- 
nouncing the death of Legendre, and that he had 
made a confession which was in writing and prop- 
erly vouched for, and that it would be perfectly safe to ap- 
prise Ashton of the facts, and inform him that he could now 
come home in perfect safety. 

Together with Mary’s assistance, Julia had been able to 
make Ashton’s hiding place perfectly secure from the search- 
ings of the detectives. This woman had stood by Julia Bul- 
lion in her troubles with a devotion that was heroism person- 
ified, yea glorified. 

She had disposed of all her worldly effects and taken up 
her residence in Paris ; worked as an apprentice in a fashion- 
able dress-making establishment, and had made five different 
trips from Paris disguised as a peasant girl, to where Ashton 
was secreted in the Alps, with messages from Julia to Ashton. 
Twice had warned Ashton of the approach of detectives, 
and sent them in the wrong direction. 

Julia was now at liberty to take her father into her con- 
fidence, and was glad to have the wisdom and judgment of 
so wise a man as Judge Bullion to rely upon. It was thought 
advisable to wait until the detective brought the important 


182 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


document and have it properly filed as a paper in the case. 
This was in due time done, and the court announced judi- 
cially that as soon as the defendant came into court that the 
proper entry would be made on the record, and his vindica- 
tion and innocence formally announced from the bench. 

Ashton was informed as speedily as the wings of light- 
ning could carry the news, and he lost no time in making the 
return trip. 

He was received with open arms by his partners, and 
was tendered a reception by the members of the bar which 
he declined to attend. On his first appearance in open court 
the proper proceedings were had, and the law firm of Bullion, 
Ashton & Bullion took up its business and again went forth 
to their professional field of labor. The notoriety of the 
case and the final honorable acquittal not only restored their 
old clients but made them many new ones. 

Mary Forsythe was not forgotten. The woman who 
was good enough to stand between Julia Bullion’s partner 
and the jaws of death was good enough to stand in the pre- 
sence of the kings and queens of this earth, and she did ; for 
Julia, with the aid and assistance of her friends, enabled her 
to open an extensive dress making business. Every detail 
she had thoroughly learned in Paris, and she at once became 
one of the leading artists in her business. When her father 
had learned of the part that she had taken in this tragedy, 
from Julia’s lips, he repented his harsh treatment of his 
daughter and would not rest content until she again returned 
to his roof. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


183 


Time never runs against the hands on the dial of justice’s 
clock. That clock ever continues to strike. It has not al- 
ways been heard on this earth, but its record is being kept; 
t has struck ten, it will go on to the high hour of noon, 
when the Master will call all from suffering and from the 
cruel hand of wrong, from sin and sorrowing, and spread 
bounteous repasts and refreshings hard-by the throne for all 
such as delight in His justice, and mercy, and goodness, and 



184 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXV 

“ The bitterest of those drops of treasured gall, spoilt the sweet taste 
of the nepenthe love.” 



T was in the last days of June that Ashton returned 
home and took up his work where he had left it 
nearly two years before. He had for nearly two 
years been subjected to the severest mental strain. He had 
aged very fast. At first appearance a stranger would have 
taken him for a man of sixty. He was but the half of that. 
His jet black hair was now as white as that of his senior part- 
ner’s. His mustaches an iron gray, and his face bore that 
sombre look that is born of care, and fear, and dread. 

Judge Bullion had again returned to his practice, and 
spent a few hours each day at his office. Friends and clients 
came in to congratulate him and his partners on their final 
deliverance. It seemed to be a tonic to Judge Bullion’s 
mind to sit at his desk and feel that the strong, self-reliant 
mind of Ashton was at his command, and ready to second 
him in the discussion and examination of difficult and intri- 
cate propositions of law. 

But this was not all, besides the man of resources, of 
knowledge, of eloquence, of oratory, and all the winning 
graces of an advocate; all this versatility was aided and 
abetted by the factor to him, to Ashton unknown but for the 
tragedy in the last two years enacted. If Judge Bullion had 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


185 


on the day of their admission wished that she had been a 
boy, how much more did he wish that she was a man. Julia 
had come out of that fiery ordeal with fewer visible signs of 
the suffering she had endured than any one of the firm. Not 
that she had suffered less, but because woman endures pain 
and grief as man cannot. If the pain and sufferings of 
women were to be transferred and borne but for one year by 
the men, there would be more blue ruin, and moaning, and 
wailing in the land than has been heard from the lips of 
woman since the world began. 

Judge Bullion had not yet settled down to hard work, 
his mind kept up a sort of side show that detracted his atten- 
tion from the main question. So long as Ashton was in his 
presence he could not keep his eyes off from him. He could 
but think of the causes of his gray hairs, his grief, his suffer- 
ings, his agony. These daggers to his heart would not down. 
He felt that constant gnawing at his mind by that inward 
monitor that forever reminded him of the part he had played 
in this bleeding business. He had endeavored to turn the 
tide of his daughter’s affections, he must now feel how futile 
had been his attempt. Where before there might have been 
nothing but strong admiration and respect, was now that burn- 
ing love that could do, and dare, and die if need be. Before 
him was the proof that put all doubts at rest forever. 

When Julia had that morning entered the office he had 
noticed the brightening effect it had on Ashton’s sombre 
brow. How changed the entire man. How manifest their 
relations showed in their very faces and every act. When 


186 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


two people are once thoroughly in unison and love each with 
the other it is as impossible for them to conceal it as it would 
be to hide a sunbeam that has once been allowed admittance 
through an aperture in a darkened room. It is not only 
envy, and malice, and hate, and vengeance, and murder that 
will out, but that other quality of the heart that grows, ex- 
pands, asserts, throbs, and beats, and thrills, and mounts, and 
leaps up into a living flame and bursts forth in power and 
light to illumine and fill the earth with joy; that proclaims 
its coming and presence, and fills the eyes with light and 
expands the soul to its utmost bounds. 

Inspiration in proclaiming “ the fruit of the Spirit ” gave 
love preference over joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, 
goodness, faith, meekness, temperance, and placed the seal 
of Infinite approval upon it in words never to be forgotten ; 
‘‘against such there is no law/’ 

Judge Bullion realized that morning as he had never 
done in his IFe before that “ descent and distribution ” were 
only “legal fictions,” devised and invented for the purpose 
of hanging clogs on the minds and hearts of men and women 
yet unborn. He ran over in his mind, “Estates rail,” 
“Condition,” “Conditional Limitations,” “For Life,” “ Cur- 
tesy,” “Dower,” “Fee, Base, Qualified, Determinable,” 
“ Tenancy at Sufferance, at Will, Year to Year,” “Remain- 
der, Vested, Contingent, Cross,” “ Executory Devise.” 

He turned them over in his mind, how poor and bare 
they all looked to him this morning; how they had filled 
his mind for years; how they had driven away happiness, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


187 


and peace of mind for the last two years. How had it all 
come about, this desolation, this heart-burning, this dark- 
ness, this grief, he startled himself, “Law,” “Legal Fic- 
tions” did it. 

Cui bono? O that the past, now rising up before him, 
more terrible than an army with banners, might sink into 
oblivion where so many times before he had hoped it had 
vanished and was swallowed up in thick night. He thought 
of Julia, of Ashton, of the past; strange that they could 
not comprehend him ; that they could not see themselves as 
he saw them; “love though is blind,’’ he said to himself, 
and fell to musing. 

Then Fred Bullion’s queer actions returned to plague 
him with questions. Why should Fred hold his marriage 
at so cheap a rate as to speak of it in confidence to such a 
man, a common gambler? Why let him have money? How 
unfortunate for our happiness sometimes, for our peace of 
mind, that we allow ourselves to ask hard questions. We 
find an opening for an entering wedge, and we drive it 
home; we are then in the same frame of mind the lock- 
picker is in when he feels the combination yielding up its 
first bolt; it is the voice from the abyss replying to our cry. 
It is that novel experience of our mind meeting the mind 
of another when that other is far away. Yes, he tells 
Legendre that he will have money when he is married, 
gives particulars and states why it has not been consum- 
mated. 

When one man importunes another simply as a pen- 


188 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


sioner, that other needs but say, “I can not,” that is a 
complete reply to the request; that is a full and complete 
answer to the one. But when a common gambler, an ac- 
quaintance merely, dogs another and asks for money to 
satisfy a passion, he may say, “Avaunt, quit my sight.” 
“ But hold,” says the gambler, (< I have a secret.” Thus 
reasoned the mind of Judge Bullion who had for a life-time 
studied the minds, motives, and secret springs, that compel 
men to do or not to do certain things; to take certain posi- 
tions, to lead certain lives. 

It would do no good to see Fred, that would not throw 
any light on the subject; he too was a Bullion. That was 
an honorable and an honored name, how could he. He 
could not think Fred guilty of any serious crime; he could 
not believe him innocent with Legendre’s dying statement 
before his mind. It was the tumbling of the locksmith’s 
first bolt; he must needs go on; it would not do to stop 
here; he is impelled to go forward. 

There was no hope that he would ever be able to utilize 
Fred in his dreams; no hope that Fred would be of any 
service to him in steering his craft safe among the rocks and 
shoals that he saw in the dim twilight, that must inevitably 
confront him. He must find some other way out of this 
difficulty that was so fast thickening about him. At times 
he would nerve himself up and decide to lay the cause of all 
his troubles before his partners, and as often as that resolve 
had been made it had melted away in hot shame on the first 
sight of either of them. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


189 


CHAPTER XXVI 


“Change is the mask that all continuance wears.” 



T was that time in the summer that Judge Bullion had 
for as many years as Ashton and Julia had known 


him, prepared to worry through his vacation. They 
dreaded to see him go; he invariably came home more 
wearied, more completely exhausted, than at the time of 
going away; but the unuttered influence that took him was 
never a subject of conversation. This year he made unusual 
preparations, though he seemed less inclined to go than on 
any previous year. His partners planned a trip in which he 
was to be one of the participants, but to their disappoint- 
ment he announced that he had laid out a journey for 
himself that would take him once more to the home 
where hislife began. He would visit the old haunts of his 
boyhood, he would surely get away from all his troubled 
dreams. 

But the unexpected was always happening, and when 
he found himself there his whole life came back to him with 
tenfold more force than it had ever done at any other time 
or place. All his faults stood out in bold relief; all his inno- 
cent years condemned him. He must have relief; it was 
past endurance; he must send for Fred. The following 
morning he sent this message to Fred : 


190 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ July 10th. 

“ Fred: 

“I am here; it has turned out contrary to what I 
expected; come at once. R. B.” 

The Judge had met Fred the day before his departure 
and apprised him of the likelihood of his sending for him. 
Fred lost no time, but posted with all haste to join his uncle. 

Minds over-burdened with dread or guilt have more 
trouble to keep their possessors from feeling that at some 
unguarded moment they have communicated their secret 
than the secret itself disturbs them. This was precisely 
Fred’s feelings as he hurried to meet Judge Bullion. What 
have I confessed to him? how much has he learned? who 
has told him? These and other harassing thoughts kept him 
in torture. 

It was late in the evening, on the night of the 12th, 
that Fred reached a snug little cottage far up among the 
Hampshire hills. The Judge had retired, but left word 
that Fred should be shown to his room if he came that 
night. It was some relief that he might know the worst 
before he slept, if he was permitted to sleep at all. 

He found the Judge propped up in bed with his 
French novel in his hand. On Fred’s entering the room, 
he laid aside his glasses and book; requested Fred to adjust 
his pillows so as to give him nearer a sitting posture before 
inviting him to a seat. 

When once comfortably settled in his position the 
Judge again adjusted his glasses and turned that penetrat- 
ing gaze, acquired by years of practice, and other years on 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


191 


the bench, full and fair on Fred’s tired face. While Fred 
did not comprehend the full thought back of the gaze he 
felt the force of the method. It disturbed him. Mentally 
the Judge said: “ I have reasoned correctly; now is the 
time; he is an easier victim now before he has the time to 
lay plans than he would be in the morning, and if he has 
any secrets to give up he will divulge them now more 
readily than on the morrow.’’ 

The Judge had been gay the night before his Waterloo; 
he was sombre now in his night on St. Helena. He began 
by taking off his glasses ; there was a nervous twitching of 
the muscles about his closely shaven lips; his eyes were 
nearly closed; he readjusted his glasses; took up his book; 
“this is a terrible business Fred that we are in, you and I; 
probably I should lay aside common courtesy and say I 
and you.” He stopped to see how this had affected Fred. 

“You and I?’’ said Fred. 

“ Yes, I and you.” 

“ I don’t understand?” 

“ Neither do I.’’ 

“Then we are both in the dark.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“ Why not?” 

“ Because I know that you know.’’ 

“ Know what?” 

“ I know that you know more than Legendre confessed 
on the night of his death.” 

“About what?” 


192 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“About your complicity in Dr. Arlington’s death.” 

“ My complicity !” 

“ Your complicity.” 

“ You surprise me.” 

“Iam never surprised.” 

“ But he did not connect me.” 

“ He did connect you sufficiently to show that he did 
not wish to leave any suspicions by being silent as to you.” 
“I am innocent — ” 

“ You are not being arraigned now. You are not be- 
ing called upon to plead.” The last words fell from Judge 
Bullion’s lips with that cold, steely ring that was his want 
when addressing the culprit in the box. 

“ Don’t convict yourself so soon.” 

“ Convict myself ?” 

“Yes, yourself.” 

“ How?’’ 

“By crying out before you are accused.” 

“ You say that I am accused.” 

“You forget yourself.” 

“ Yourself ?” 

“No, yourself.” 

“ Beg pardon, then myself.” 

“Yes, sir, I say yourself.” 

“ How do I forget myself ?” 

“ I have not accused you.” 

“ Did you not say that I was accused?’’ 

“Well, did I?” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


193 


“ I thought you did.” 

“No, you feared I would.” 

“ Why?” 

“ Why? why interrogate me upon a subject when you 
are better posted than I can possibly be?” 

Fred thought he saw an opening, and determined to 
finish his more skilled antagonist in a war of words, if pos- 
sible, by one fell-blow. 

“ If you do not wish to be interrogated in relation to a 
matter which you say concerns us both why should you 
send for me to come all this distance that you may inter- 
rogate me?’’ 

“ It is a dangerous thing sometimes, my dear nephew, 
to ask questions. ’’ 

“ Yes, I see.” 

“You see what?’’ 

“That it is dangerous to ask questions,” said Fred 
nervously. 

Fred was at sea and floundering badly, he felt that he 
had been impaled on the bare hook dropped by the Judge, 
and it was only a question of time when he would be landed 
by this skillful angler after thoughts. 

“ You see that it is dangerous to ask questions? yes, 
] but you saw the danger after it was too late to profit by it. If 
you are innocent, as you say you are, why should you have 
any hesitancy about being interrogated? What was in 
my possession before my last talk with you has been consid- 
erably augmented by some other facts that I have since 
I 13 


194 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


gathered and now you have confirmed my position and I see 
it all.” 

“ You see it all?” 

“Yes.” 

Fred heaved a sigh as much as to say, “ it is all over, 
and so soon. ” The J udge turned away his head and removed 
his glasses. 

“ Well, then,” said Fred. 

“ Well, what then?” replied the Judge. 

“ What do you wish further?” said Fred, with a slight 
emphasis on the last word as though he thought the conver- 
sation was at an end and dreaded to take it up again. The 
Judge held up his glasses before his face and looked at him. 

“ Further?’’ 

“Yes, further?” 

“ I could wish that you had some mitigating circum- 
stances, something that might take away all the ghastliness 
of this horrid affair,’’ replied the Judge. His tone was one 
that indicated how deeply he felt on this subject. 

Fred had not anticipated this move, he did not see this 
trap in his pathway; he had walked head-long into it and now 
it was sprung upon him. 

“I would like to be heard before I am condemned in 
this wholesale way,” said Fred, much affected. A 

“Very well, I’ll hear you, proceed.” This last was 
said in a manner and tone that said, I am conferring a favor 
upon you, when, at the same moment, the Judge was con- 
gratulating himself on the fact that he had gained his point, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 195 

and that his nephew was about to confess that which was a 
profound mystery to him. 

“ Where shall I begin?” 

“Wherever you think proper.” 

“You have drawn a wrong conclusion from Legendre’s 
statement.’’ 

“ I am open to conviction.” 

He told the absolute truth when he said that I was in 
no way cognizant of the facts, nor had any knowledge of the 
intentions of the man who did the deed. I can’t tell why he 
should mention my name in that confession at all; I can only 
tell what I know about the cause that led up to the act. 

“The facts and knowledge first, explanations afterward 
— more matter and less art — proceed.” 

Legendre met Dr. Arlington shortly after that miser- 
able afternoon with his (Legendre’s) sister. If the Judge 
had spoken truthfully a few minutes before when he said, “I 
am never surprised,’’ he had said it for the last time, for he 
was surprised. At the time of their meeting, Legendre 
asked the Doctor “if he did not think that we” meaning the 
Doctor and myself, “had, to use Legendre’s expression, ‘ Got 
ourselves in a hole.’ ” 

The Doctor knew that Legendre was a desperate char- 
acter, and that his only hope was in fighting the devil with 
fire, and he accordingly remarked, as coolly as he could under 
the circumstances, “that the courts were open, and that his 
counsel was always employed.” 

“ Who is your counsel?” inquired Legendre. 


196 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


The Doctor replied, “Ashton.’’ 

You see he took his cue from that as well as from the 
information he had from me, and he inferred from develop- 
ments later on that Arlington had been his sister’s physician, 
and that I was expecting to marry your daughter, and that 
it would, in all probability, break off the negotiation, if his 
sister’s condition became known. 

So you see that it was through Arlington that he first 
learned of my future prospects. After he learned this, he 
made inquiries that I could not help but disclose my expect- 
ation and prospects. 

Legendre attributed his sister’s death to Arlington, 
and when he learned that Ashton would defend him, he nat- 
urally felt embittered against both of them. 

I did not tell Legendre that they were rivals of mine, 
but he suspected that they were, and that they would endan- 
ger my prospects. To be relieved of his annoyance and con- 
stant importunity, I permitted him to have that impres- 
sion as the easiest way out of the embarrassing situation I 
was in. 

Legendre was a proud man, and even in his death he 
did not wish to disclose more than was necessary to clear 
Ashton. At the same time, he saw that he must give some 
motive to his confession, that it would carry the weight he 1 
thought it ought to have. 

There was an unearthly gleam in the Judge’s eyes as he 
turned his head and said, almost savagely, “ then you have 
been cognizant of these facts all these years and kept silent?” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


197 


“Upon my honor as a man, no; I knew nothing; I 
only had my suspicions, and no way to verify them.” 

“Why not make your suspicions known? ” 

“ Legendre would have known at once where the cue 
came from, and would have sought to implicate me and drag 
me into the matter, no telling what the results.’’ 

“Yes, I see,’’ said the Judge; “you preferred that 
Ashton should hang for Legendre’s crime rather than your- 
self; that is in accordance with the first law of our natures.” 

“ Well, what would you have done? ” 


“You are asking questions again; I am not on the wit- 


ness stand.” 

“Neither am I,” said Fred, somewhat nettled. 

“As you please, sir; this is your confession, not mine.” 
“ If you don’t care to hear me further, I will leave off.” 
But the Judge did care to hear him further. 

“I am listening.” 

I think I am simply drawing a conclusion from Legen- 
dre’s statement, such as it reasonably indicates upon its face, 
when I say that he knew that he must give some motive for 
e deed, that the statement might have weight as a con- 
fession. 

The Judge closed his eyes, while Fred went back in his 
ind to gather up the thread of his story ; after waiting a 
ment for him to collect his thoughts, he opened them, 
and said, kindly, “I listen.’’ 

I was as ignorant of the facts and who the murderer 
ially was as you were until Legendre’s confession. I had 


198 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


suffered enough for my folly without offering myself as an 
immolation to expiate the guilt of another. At this point 
Fred looked at his watch ; “ orre o’clock/’ said he, “ would 

it not be as well to take this up in the morning, uncle? ” 

Judge Bullion saw that he had gained his point, and 
could take the matter up in the morning, and rather than 
seem in a hurry, acquiesced in Fred’s suggestion. 

‘‘Quite,’’ said the Judge. “You will occupy the room 
adjoining this.” The door was ajar, and all he had to do 
was to walk in. 

“ Good night, uncle.’’ 

“Good night, Fred.” 

Left alone, the Judge began turning over these new ac- 
quisitions to see what use he could turn them to. After 

some reflection, he arrived at about this conclusion : that 

% 

Fred’s course was quite natural, and both of them were to 
be congratulated that he was no nearer the deed. While he 
did not technically stand in the position of an accessory, yet, 
as he said, his folly had caused the death of Arlington and 
came near taking Ashton’s life. His folly; well, I don’t 
know how I could consistently characterize it by any harsher 
“ Well, then, on the morrow.” 


name. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


199 


CHAPTER XXVII 


“ The little that we see 

From doubt is never free, 


The little that we do 
Is but half nobly true.” 



RED flattered himself that he had guessed the inward 
feeling of his uncle by his outward manifestations ; 


and thought the Judge did not put a too harsh con- 
struction on what had seemed a grave offense; and true to 
human nature, he felt more like excusing himself now than 
at any time previous, for the reason that all of us see our 
faults as less culpable if they are not too severely judged by 
our fellows. 

There are two classes of persons, who have something 
in their make-up, that relieves us from restraint and embar- 
rassment, when we come to confess our faults and short-com- 
ings. The one we feel is above thinking an evil thought; 
that would scorn doing a mean act; the other we feel is as 
weak as ourselves, or has done just what we have or would 
have done under similar circumstances, 

It is not our province to say in which class Fred had 
placed either the Judge or himself; nevertheless his embar- 
rassment had somewhat passed off and he was quite himself in 
the morning. He greeted his uncle in his old-time hearty 
manner, and talked of the days when the Judge was a boy 
among these hills. 


200 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


The Judge was always a man of dispatch; if he had bus* 
iness on hand, that was the first thing that claimed and had 
his attention. Breakfast was soon over and he invited Fred 
into his private room. 

The things one says in the quiet of the night when the 
darkness is illuminated by one single tallow dip, would not 
be so easily said in the broad day-light at seven in the morn- 
ing, and the very thoughts of what Fred had said so easily 
on the past night now appalled him. His first thought was 
to back out of the room and say to his uncle that he was in- 
disposed ; in fact, was taken suddenly ill and beg to be ex- 
cused. But before he could address the Judge he was di- 
rected to a seat, the door closed behind him. As he half 
dropped into the chair he was confronted by his uncle in the 
act of drawing a chair close beside him and at the same time 
looking full into his face. 

There are men who could stand perfectly unconcerned at 
the sight of a pistol pointed at them with the command to stand 
and deliver, who would shrink from a man drawing a chair 
toward them with a look that Judge Bullion’s face wore at ‘ 
that minute. There is a feeling that comes over one at such 
a time that is indescribable. It is that wide and deep dread 
that our ignorance lends to the unforeseen and unknown ex- < 
tent of probabilities. 

Fred clutched convulsively the arms of his chair as 
though he felt that some unforeseen power was about to blow 
him out of the room. He was in precisely the same position 
the over-matched man is in, when he sees his burly and pow- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


201 


erful antagonist approaching him in the ring and realizes that 
he is over-matched, he is half conquered before the battle 
begins. 

The Judge was the first to break the silence. “Well?’’ 
How that meaningless word jars on one’s nerves at such a 
time. It is the sensation one experiences while standing on 
tip-toe, mouth wide open, waiting to receive the shock caused 
by the firing of a cannon which one momentarily expects 
will be discharged. The longer one waits the more tension 
on one’s nerves and the more one feels the shock. 

Fred felt so utterly helpless that he began bracing him- 
self, by pushing with all his strength on the arms of the chair. 
When he had thus screwed his courage up to the sticking 
point he managed to force his voice through his teeth, 
“ Well, what?” 

The Judge had feared the reaction, and he saw that he 
must apply the lash and that, too, with severity. “You talk 
like a man in his dreams — what you omitted to say last 
night.” 

Fred had not fully regained his senses, and he struck out 
with one of those aimless questions that sometimes puts the 
shrewdest cross-examiner at his wits ends. 

“ What did I omit to say last night?” 

A less careful man than Judge Bullion might have 
dashed blindly at that staggering question, and said, “ How 
do I know what you omitted to say?” but he did no such 
thing. He calmly looked at Fred for a moment and then 
said, “ If you have decided to make no further statement, if 


202 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


you do not wish to make a full breast of this matter then I 
shall feel at liberty to put my own construction on the facts 
now in my possession.’’ 

The man who is in possession of the facts, or makes one 
feel that he is, and can pass judgment, but suspends sentence 
until one has had an opportunity to explain, is on the vantage 
ground and makes one feel as under obligation to tell all one 
knows. By stepping out from behind his fortifications he 
has disarmed you, and when the truce is over you are undone. 
Precisely Fred’s position. 

The intensity of feeling depends upon the amount of re- 
sistance that can be brought against it. This probably ac- 
counts for the difference between the ease with which he 
talked the evening before and the difficulty he was now ex- 
periencing. Then he was tired and worn out with travel, 
excitement, and dread ; now his mind had gained its wonted 
elasticity and vigor, and it rebelled against being thus uncer- 
emoniously invaded. 

If on the night previous he only felt the force of the 
Judge’s methods he now saw the reason for his adopting them. 
To be caught in the net spread by your antagonist is pain- 
fully embarrassing ; but to afterward see that your stupidity 
made the thing possible is exasperating. 

Fred’s anger and pride suggested that he say to his 
uncle to use his own pleasure in the matter, and he arose 
with the full determination to leave the room. The silence 
was painful. If the Judge would only go off in a tower of 
rage, and threaten and storm he could walk out without the 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


203 


least difficulty, but there was where he was again check- 
mated. The Judge never said a word, but gazed straight 
out the window. Fred started toward the door, but his eyes 
were on his uncle. u Confound it, why can’t he say just one 
word and help me out of this disagreeable business?” thought 
Fred. But he did not all the same. 

Don’t you know that nine out of every ten persons 
who have ever gone from your presence against your will 
have done so while you were talking? That if you had 
been silent, the silence would have held them with more 
than the strong force of the three-fold cord that is not 
quickly broken. 

Fred’s resolve broke down just as he put out his hand 
to lift the latch; he hesitated, and was gone. He turned 
round, paced up and down the room several times, thinking 
that his uncle might break the silence and the spell by 
speaking first, but the Judge was as imperturable as a 
sphinx, and just as silent. Fred sat. The Judge looked 
at him, not even a “well” to help him out. It was now 
clear to him that if he had any further confession to make 
it all depended upon himself to get through with it and be 
gone. 

“ I am ready.” 

“Iam listening.” 

“ Where shall I begin ?’* 

“You said that once before, it is not my confession, 
begin where you please.” 

This time Fred’s pride and anger struggled with his 


204 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


admiration for the man’s gall; to use his exact thought: 
“ He sends for me, brings me here without even the slight- 
est intimation as to the use he intends to put me to ; forces 
me into detailing an account of my own shame and instead 
of helping me make a full and clean breast of the matter to 
him by extending his sympathy, forces it out of me by the 
aid of mental thumb screws.’’ 

“ Well,’* the boot was on the other foot this time. 

“ Well, what?” “I believe you remarked that a short 
time ago,” observed his honor. 

“I have a slight recollection of that myself, ’’ Fred 
replied. 

“ Well to begin — ” he hesitated again. 

“ Begin you.” 

Jack Legendre, as he was known among the boys, 
attended the same school for boys that Ashton and myself 
were at. He was in the class that graduated the year after 
I did. I knew him well; he was bright and passionate, 
with strong likes and dislikes. Fortunately and unfortu- 
nately he liked me. He saved me from some very serious 
college trouble to get me into still more social trouble. 

His patrimony was worth at least $100,000 the day 
he arrived at his majority. He maintained himself and 
sister in gorgeous style. He insisted on my visiting them. 
I found it quite to my liking. It was not long until I was 
as much attached to the sister as to the brother, and she 
returned the sentiment with all the fervor of a woman’s 
nature. I saw this and began thinking that there might be 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


205 


danger ahead and thought of breaking off the acquaintance. 
I did so. 

Jack continued his gambling and increased his drink 
until he lost his entire fortune. The sister was in destitute 
circumstances. By chance I met her; she related the con- 
dition she was in. I felt that it was mean in me to share 
their hospitalities while they were in affluent circumstances 
and then desert them when in need. I did not turn a deaf 
ear to her importunity. I gave her assistance and gave 
liberally. I soon found that Jack was using her as a means 
by which to extort money from me. I then refused to give 
her any more if she persisted in supplying him with the 
means of gambling. She promised that she would not, but 
you know how that would be as long as she lived in the same 
apartments with him. It was then that the evil hour came. 
She told me that Jack had notified her that she must either 
share with him when he was “ broke” or get other quarters. 
This half nettled me. I said, you get other quarters. She 
took me at my word, moved into other rooms and notified 
me of the change. You know the consequences that would 
follow from such relations. 

When a woman, young and handsome, takes money 
from the hands of a man without giving him value received 
for it, she compromises her womanhood and it is only a ques- 
tion of time when she is subject to his desires, and a thou- 
sands time I have cursed myself for being no better than the 
average man. 

Fred had all this time been looking straight in front of 


206 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


him, but was conscious that his uncle was giving the closest 
attention. He felt that the Judge had taken his eyes off 
him. He turned to see if his senses had deceived him. No, 
he was right; the Judge had turned his head and was now 
looking out the window. 

“ Disgusted,” said Fred. 

'‘Go on,” said the Judge. 

Everything was easier now; Fred had decided in 
his own mind the class to which the Judge belonged — the class 
referred to is the one mentioned in the beginning of this 
chapter. 

Matters ran along in this way for nearly two years, 
until one day — the Judge put up his hand. i( Yes, there is 
the difficulty, ’’ said he. 

“That’s what I say,” remarked Fred. 

“ We are not French, Fred.” 

“ No, that is true uncle, and sometimes I feel that they 
have the best of us.” 

“ We’ll not discuss that now,” said the Judge. 

It was apparent that something must be done; what 
that something was, I did not know. Jack, of course, was 
cognizant of all the facts the entire time that she had lived 
with me as my mistress. He, in fact, paved the way that 
led to it, and now I think it was all a deep laid plan of his 
to get me into just that situation. 

For the entire two years he had not raised the slight- 
est objection to the relation existing between his sister and 
me, but on the contrary, seemed to be in full accord with 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


207 


it. But as soon as he discovered the situation, he came to 
me in a towering passion and called me libertine, betrayer 
of his sister, and threatened me with death if I did not make 
full and complete reparation for the wrong. 

He insisted that there was but one thing to be done 
and that was to marry her. His stock argument was, that 
if she was good enough to be my mistress, she was good 
enough to be my wife. I admitted, as well as felt, the force 
of the argument, but what the devil is a fellow like me to do 
in the face of society in such a predicament as that, 

There were those who knew it, and half the city might 
have been informed of the fact that she was my mistress, 
and still that would not have prevented me from moving in 
the best society, but the moment I should undertake to pull 
her in with me I would find us both shut out. Fred 
heaved a sigh and continued. There is no use in a man 
reasoning about this matter, for when he has reached his con- 
clusion he throws it to the dogs and meekly submits to the 
inevitable, in the language of the esthetic dude, “why strive 
after the unattainable.” 

Society may not be any better than you are, but to 
use that strong vernacular of the wild and woolly West that 
is more forcible than elegant, it has the bulge on you, and 
the indications are that it is likely to keep it. 

Jack’s stock argument about her being good enough 
still stuck in the bark, I tried to reason myself into believing 
.he was right, r but you know how much force education and 
custom carry with them. Society teaches us that men may 


208 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


do what they wish with impunity — what women can not do 
without everlasting ruination. That she must be better than 
him, while she associates with him, and if she is not, he may 
cast her off. 

When I came to apply the rule, I felt that it was harsh 
and unnatural; yet, when I came to reverse it, I had some 
qualms ihat I could not argue down. To be good enough 
forme, she must be better than me; and when she let her- 
self down to my level, then I felt that I — well, not that I 
was too good for her — but that she was not good enough for 
anybody. 

When we are sick, we apply to a physician, and usually 
find that there is much truth hidden in that sarcasm of the 
Bible : “Asa sought not unto the Lord, but unto the physi- 
cians, and Asa slept with his fathers. ’’ 

“ My mind was sick, and I sought unto the physicians 
for relief ; that physician was Dr. Arlington. I told him the 
situation. Together we went through the weary maze that 
I have just completed. I shall never forget his parting 
words at the close of our first interview: “I would not think,” 
said he, “of marriage, only as a dernier resort.” 

I pondered and thought. I asked myself what he 
could mean ; if marriage was a last resort, then there must 
have been something aside from that in his mind; some 
resort before taking that step; I might say fatal step. 

I decided not to put any criminal construction on his 
remark, but concluded to ask him what other resort he would 
refer me to before marriage. This I did at our next meet- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


209 


ing. He looked at me in a half jesting, half quizzical man- 
ner, and answered, “you are a man of the world, and in 
these years must have thought of the consequences likely to 
follow such relations as you were having with a person of the 
opposite sex ; and that this natural result was a fair proba- 
bility that might any day arise in your path and demand a 
solution or disposition. ” 

I saw at once that he was not disposed to commit 
himself, and if any course was to be pursued I must suggest 
it. I therefore named several plans and asked his advice. As 
to the foundling hospital, he made this remark: “Of all the 
curses in this ruined and sin-cursed world, I think the found- 
ling hospital the greatest curse, not only to the parents, but 
to the offspring. If I had what society calls an illegitimate 
offspring to provide for, I would rather with my own hands 
take it out and sink it in the depths of mid-ocean than carry 
it to a foundling hospital, or place it anywhere to come up 
as a weed to return again some time to plague and to tor- 
ment me and to reek vengeance upon society for what society 
had inflicted upon it. ” 

This was a thing I had never thought of, still contin- 
uing, he said, ‘ ‘ Has it ever occurred to you that society 
claims the right to do that which it has forbidden you as an 
individual to take into your own hands?” He looked at me 
significantly for a moment. I said, “I don’t quite under- 
stand.” “ Society,” said he, “ claims the right as a reserved 
one, inherent of necessity to its existence, to kill any individ- 


14 


210 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


ual member of its body when that individual becomes an 
intolerable evil to itself and society generally.” 

“It puts a ban of shame and infamy upon every 
woman caught anticipating a marriage contract. It does not 
exactly kill her, but in most instances it might as well; ever 
holding its air-drawn dagger before her eyes and vowing 
murder; it drives her into the same channel of thought and 
compels her to think of forestalling it . v 

“Well, what is the result? It drives some women 
into this frame of mind. Which shall I choose. Allow my- 
self to be the mother of a child that will, from the day of its 
birth to the day of its death, wear a badge of shame — which 
said badge — that makes it a fair mark for the finger of scorn 
and a target for society to one day compel into that great 
and everlasting indolence of death, and forever makes me to 
stand without the gate and cry, unclean, unclean, or shall I 
take the matter into my own hands and choose which of the 
two fold objects of prayer I shall adopt, forestall before the 
deed is done, or plead for pardon being down? She some 
times says before I will allow society to lays its hands, thick 
with human blood, upon me and my prospective child, I will 
forestall that evil, and if caught, then I will plead for mercy 
being down.” 

His thought was suggestive and seemed to me to say, 
do not adopt the dernier resort. I took the cue. I said I 
would lay it before her, “ That is proper,” said he. “ It is 
an awful thing to contemplate ; no physician should ever put 
himself in the position of umpire in such cases, at least I have 
decided not to do so.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


211 


“I had qualms of conscience, however, in trying to 
shift the burden on her, I was particeps criminis , an acces- 
sory before the fact, so to speak, would it be manly for me 
to forsake her ? Then again I was wholly at sea. She sent 
for me. When I entered her room I saw that she had been 
crying ; then my heart went out to her and I inwardly resolved 
if she said one word about marriage, I would go straightway 
and have the matter consummated at once, and I only regret 
now that she did not mention it, that I did not follow the 
impulse of my best self and act as I felt. When I think of 
these five lives sunk into night and all the suffering that has 
been superinduced thereby, I dont know how I can contain 
myself.” 

Fred stopped, covered his face with his hands, the out- 
ward light was revealing the blackness of the inward dark- 
ness in a way that was past enduranee. 

But I must go on, for if I leave off here I will never 
take it up again. There was a tremor in his voice that told 
how painful his recollections were. He looked at his uncle. 
The Judge was gazing out into the clouds that hung over 
the hills. He was lost in thought; two big, crystal tears 
were just stealing down over his cheeks and hid themsevles 
in his copious handkerchief that lay upon his bosom. Little 
did Fred Bullion dream of the painful thoughts that were 
then revolving themselves in the mind of the * ‘noble Judge.” 
He was now cognizant of the before unconscious bond of 
sympathy that made them kin and that had unloosed his 
tongue. 


212 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“She said not a word about marriage, but seemed to 
have been thinking along the same line that the Doctor had 

suggested. ‘ I am going’, said she, ‘to No. street, and 

remain there until I am either out of this embarrassment or 
dead. Keep this away from Jack, for if he finds where I am 
he will murder any one he suspects of having a hand in the 
business.’ 

“Jack had been on the lookout, he had seen me go to 
Arlington’s office, he had misjudged the Doctor. As soon 
as he learned that his sister had left her apartments he be- 
gan to make search for her. He found, by some means un- 
known to me, where she was. He went there, demanded 
admittance and the right to search the place. He found no 
trace of her. He then went to an under-graduate of the col- 
lege in which Dr. Arlington was a professor, and through 
this student gained admittance to the dissecting rooms. 

He knew that he could recognize her body if he could 
find it, by a birth mark on the underside of her left arm mid- 
way between the elbow and shoulder. Unfortunately for 
Arlington he found it. From that day Arlington’s death 
was sealed.” 

“ How do you know that?” said the Judge. 

“ He told me that he had found the body, and she had 
previously said that Jack had vowed vengeance on any one 
he found implicated. I told him I had never counseled such 
a course, and he took my word.” 

“ But why should he implicate Ashton?” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


213 


“ Because he felt that Ashton was counsel for Arling- 
ton. ” 

The Judge had swallowed the contents of this bitter 
cup, had tasted the very dregs, the gall and worm wood. 
He arose, looked out on the old familiar fields and hills. 
He must needs get rid of this tension. “Let us go out for 
a constitutional, Fred.” 


214 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

“If he had courage to think out clearly what he vaguely discerns 
he would discover that self-sacrifices passing a certain limit, entails evil 
on all, evil on those for whom sacrifice is made as well as on those who 
make it.” 

to talk sometimes when you feel that your 
is half-occupied with other thoughts, times 
when you want to talk as much for your own relief 
as for your companion’s edification. 

The Judge began talking as they walked down the nar- 
row lane that led to the main high-way. “ I see it all very 
clearly now, Fred. You were absorbed in this affair about 
the time that you and I talked of your future prospects.” 

“Exactly, uncle, I was so overwhelmed that it was 
impossible for me to think of anything, and it was only by 
the force of positive resolution that I could look a decent 
woman in the face.” 

“ I don’t know what to suggest now as to what would 
be the proper course for you to pursue; Julia positively re- 
fuses to see you or meet you in any way whatever.” 

“ She has always been very cool in her greetings since 
John’s return; and I would not be surprised if they are so 
completely wrapped up now in each other that it would be 
impossible for anything to come between them but death.” 

“I fear you are right, Fred.” 



VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


215 


“ It looks that way to me, uncle.’’ 

They walked on in silence for some time, when the 

B udge was the first to speak. With all of his cold outward 
emeanor Judge Bullion was a kindly-feeling man at heart. 
“This has troubled me a great deal, Fred, and I fear 
that I have been the cause of wrecking your life along with 
the rest.” 

“ It was no fault of yours, uncle.’’ 

“It is only when we have all the facts before us, Fred, 
that we are able to arrive at a just conclusion.” Fred 
looked puzzled. “There be some people we think more 
kindly of living than we do when they are dead,” said the 
Judge, “ and I fear this will be my case.” 

“You are too exacting when you apply your judg- 
ment to yourself.’’ 

“I ask your pardon, Fred, for the seeming austerity 
with which I have treated you in this, our conversation.” 

“ O uncle, I — ” 

“Nay, my dear nephew, it is I who must confess, not 
you. I was not cruel that I might be natural. It is not 
always that a man can be gayest when his heart is heaviest. 
Woman laughs in your face when her heart is ready to 
break, not so with man.” 

“ It was what I feared you might have done that op- 
pressed me. It was what I did not know that frightened me 
and made me feel that you would not tell me. I am con- 
tent, I am satisfied that I know the worst. I can now be 
easy so far as you are concerned in this bleeding business. I 


216 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


am comforted to know that you see the situation so clearly 
as to my partners. No, nothing but fate can separate them.’’ 

“ There is a side to this cold, heartless life of mine that 
I would be glad to tell you of.” Fred stopped. His mind 
was so completely at a standstill that his body was left to 
itself, and* like any other machine, stops still when the mo- 
tive power has suspended. Judge Bullion also halted, the 
two men stood facing each other. The one a mute and 
amazed listener; the other a heart-broken, desolate man. 
Fred saw how much his uncle was moved, and realized how 
glad he would have been not two hours ago for some one to 
have just said one word, that he took it upon himself to 
speak. 

“You know, my dear uncle, that you once told me 
never to inquire into another man’s business, more especially 
his private life; that a real man never made a confident of 
any one on invitation ; but was more likely to speak his mind 
to some one who was not so curious; that if a man was dis- 
posed to confide in another, he would do so only when his 
own feelings prompted him to the action.” 

“Yes, Fred, that is true, no matter from what source 
you got your information. 'I was not aware that I had ever 
made such an observation to you.” The Judge paused for 
a moment and then continued : 

“And now while on that topic, permit me to say there 
is another thing equally as true and probably of more im- 
portance to every man, and that is this: Remember that 
your best friend to day may be your bitterest enemy to-mor- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


217 


row; and confide, then, no more than you are willing that 
your fiercest foe should know.” 

“Nothing so degenerates an age, a nation, a people, a 
State, a city, a man, as the holding at too cheap a rate by 
the possessor. Too much commingling is as vicious, as de- 
generating, as enervating, as disastrous to body and mind as 
too little. Like evil communications, too often corrupt good 
morals. There be those who think the solitary man is the 
wild beast of society, that the solitary carniverous animal is 
the typical predatory beast of prey; but then there is an- 
other side to this man, the king of solitude is often the king 
of society,’’ 

“ If the chosen soul could ne’er be alone 
In deep mid silence open-door’d to God, 

No greatness ever had been dream’d cr done; 

Among dull hearts a prophet never grew, 

The nurse of full-grown souls is solitude.” 

Judge Bullion instantly made application of his advice 
to his nephew, and the words he was about to utter died on 
his lips. Fred also recalled what he had just said, and asked 
no questions. 

As by mutual consent, both turned half way round and 
proceeded to walk down toward the road. “After what we 
have just observed,” remarked Fred, “it would be folly for 
me to ask you anything concerning yourself, uncle, but I feel 
that you would fain tell me something out of your rich ex- 
perience that would profit me.” 

“My dear fellow, how do you divine my thoughts? 


218 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Yes, I would gladly speak to you now about some things, 
since your experience is to me so well known.” 

‘ ‘ Thank you, I shall be glad to hear you.*’ 

“I would commend you to the careful reading of the 
sayings of one of the wisest men of the earth. It has not 
been said of him historically, that I know, what Pope said of 
Bacon, ‘and meanest,’ but I think his life if well known 
would justify the judgment.” 

“To whom do you refer?” 

“Solomon, the son of David, King of Israel. There 
are men to-day, both married and single, rushing into vice 
and debauchery with the opposite sex who will find sooner 
or later that the sins of their lives will recoil upon them with 
all the fierceness of eternal judgment. They will not stop 
and consider that ‘the wise shall inherit glory, but shame 
shall be the promotion of fools * until it is too late. 

“ Men seek the society of women from motives as dif- 
ferent as the differences in different men. 

“They do not appreciate the blessings and rewards of a 
virtuous and pure life as keenly as they feel the evils that re- 
sult from sin and wrong, for the reason that they rather ex- 
pect that they ought of right to enjoy the good fortune and 
fruits of the one and escape the evils of the other. 

Man’s stock of self consciousness is so abundant that he 
watches the censorship of society to the neglect of the in- 
ward monitor. A coward may obey the laws of society to 
the letter and follow its mandates with fear and trembling, 
but it takes a brave man, a resolute man, to resist tempta- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


219 


tions from within and flatterers without, for fear of doing 
violence to his own sense of cleanliness and purity of life. 

“The young man who has- determined and does so 
shape his course in life, so that his old age shall be full of 
peace and purity as it is full of years, is the only man who 
can reasonably feel safe. We all have more solicitude 
about escaping the evil than in obtaining the good; we 
rush head-long into vice and have no fear of the conse- 
quences. The thing we are endeavoring to steer clear of is 
the being caught.’’ 

“ When we come to consider the question of future 
prospects and happiness in this life we find that we propose, 
but that circumstances, money, society, and our past lives, 
dispose of us to an extent heretofore unseen by us.” 

“You and I, my boy, had set about doing a certain 
thing, we proposed, but we had very effectually barred our- 
selves from disposing, before we reached the case in hand.’’ 

“But I can’t see why you should say, ‘you and 1/ ’’ 
said Fred. 

“ Yes, and for the moment you can’t but forget to re- 
member that it was only a few minutes ago that you said 
you would not ask a man any questions about his private 
life, that in all probability he will tell you all he desires to 
have you know.” 

“ I beg your pardon.” 

“ It is granted.” 

“ I was about to say that you had reached that point 
in your life where you would be called upon to act very 


220 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


differently from what you had intended. If we could 
always find our antagonist in the place we had put him, or 
had expected to find him, then we would simply be called 
upon to knock down a man of straw and proceed on our 
way, but unfortunately our antagonists are not men of straw — 
they are alive and active as ourselves and as often find us 
in our weak places as that we surprise them, and as a result 
life is made up of a series of the unexpected and defeats, 
interspersed with a few victories.” 

“There are more blue Mondays than bright Tuesdays, 
with now and then a gorgeous Thursday, to relieve the 
sombre hue of the ever-recurring black Fridays. There are 
more charnel houses that conceal and burry bitter memories, 
ghastly corpses, than there are conservatories with sweet 
flowers and blooming hopes, and beauty, and joys. The 
bright immortelloes are hidden beneath the deciduous cones 
and dead leaves of the solemn pines, the sad hemlocks, the 
weeping willows, because man goeth oftener to his long 
home than to the feast, because the mourners go about the 
streets oftener than the band plays “Hail to the Chief.” 
The silver cord is loosened more times than the orange 
blossoms bloom on fair brows. The golden bowl is broken, 
the pitcher falls at the fountain, the wheel at the cistern 
ceases to turn just as the lights were about to be seen 
swinging and the peals of laughter and music to “fill the 
vast cathedral aisles with symphonies sweet and dim.’’ But 
too much of this. 

“ We are too liable to think that all there is in life is in 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


221 


being able to attain our ends, our ambitions; to fulfill our 
desires and gratify our longings for place, and riches, and 
power. We forget that the noblest acquisition s of life are 
to attain that fullest measure of manhood that nature has 
made possible for us without the least interference with the 
rights of others. It is better to stand on the mole hill con- 
structed out of our dead selves, upon which we have risen, 
than to mount to the skies on the accumulations of wrecked 
lives and broken hearts of others. 

“The inequalities of the marital relations make men 
usurpers and tyrants, and have multiplied ten-fold the burdens 
of life to the sex that ought of right to be free from care. 

‘‘I do not say to you, henceforth stand without the 
gates, that paradise will be paradise the more because you 
have once known it and now are barred out, but I do say 
that there are worse conditions in life than that of being a 
bachelor. The danger arising from such a mode of living 
always being the liability to indulge in excesses and immoral- 
ities, because no guardian angel stands behind you to say 
‘Hold, enough.’ 

‘ ‘ When single men realize that every thought that 
rouses passionate desire has a tendency to injure intellectual 
activity, that every impure thought is a clog that retards 
their progress, and stultifies their better natures, then they 
will guard the avenues of their minds with that jealous care 
that will make giants of their intellects as well as their bodies. 

“The impression has gone abroad throughout the world 
that the observations of Solomon apply only to the wiles of 


222 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


the harlot; that she alone ‘hath cast down many wounded; 
yea, many strong men have been slain by her/ It is only 
too true ‘ that the dead are there, and that her guests are in 
the depths of hell; that her feet go down to death; her 
steps take hold on hell/ But you must remember that she 
is not the only woman that ‘ sitteth at the door of her house, 
on a seat in the high places of the city, to call passengers who 
go right on their way. ’ As many men seek this foolish woman’ 
— by reason of the fact that the sensible woman at home is 
not congenial — as are taken by her snares and wiles, and the 
bonds of the marital relation sit so loosely on so many peo- 
ple that the ‘ foolish woman ’ is out-numbered two to one by 
those who bear the once honorable name of wife/’ 

“ Why is it?” 

“ I have been lawyer and judge these forty years. In 
that time great changes have been wrought in our modes of 
living, and thoughts and activities. Then there were but 
few broad highways leading down through life, and of ne- 
cessity there was such parallelism in the lives of men and 
women that there was no good reason for their not journey- 
ing together. In fact, there were but few things to distract 
their thoughts or separate them from the singleness of pur- 
pose in which their lives had been moulded. 

“ Now everything is changed. Instead of a few broad 
highways, and broad and traveled-beaten paths, men and wo- 
men are living in entirely different latitudes. They are 
being born at a distance of 90° from each other, and as 
they push across the circle of their little worlds, the cir- 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


223 


cle that circumscribes their lives, they meet at the cen- 
ter ; they are so happy at the meeting point that ' they 
think for the moment that they were created one for the 
other, only to find out in a very short time that they were 
born to live at right angles to each other after they have 
passed the point of contact. 

“We try to smuggle this new condition under an an- 
cient name, and hope that to-morrow will correct this ine- 
quality, and make believe that the future will be good because 
past was not, as though good was the result of chance, and 
not the very life-blood of our beings. 

‘ ‘ These cross-purposes of life in this age have wrought 
a change that is as sure as civilization itself, and the wise 
men and women will take advantage of these changed con- 
ditions when a few courageous souls dare brave the storms 
and abuse and scorn that self-constituted goodness and af- 
fected cleanliness and prudery will hurl at them.” 

Judge Bullion stopped. There was that startled look 
upon his face such as a man might wear who had been caught 
alone in a secluded spot delivering a lofty oration to himself 
for want of a sufficiently appreciative audience. He seemed 
to have been reading to himself from the diary of his life. 

He looked at Fred, significantly, and said: “What have 
I been saying all this time? M He answered the question be- 
fore Fred had an opportunity to reply. “Just that sort of 
thing that thousands of married men have been confessing 
and will continue to confess to themselves, which they would 
not dare to make public. Society makes cowards of us all, 


224 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


and compels us to hide our better selves as though we had 
stolen them.” 

The spring that had caused the hands to move on the 
dial of the Judge’s thought had spent its force, had lost its 
tension, and he stopped, like the “old man’s clock, never to 
go again.” They returned to the cottage. Fred dined with 
his uncle, their conversation was but commonplace, both 
men felt that they had been relieved and were ready to sep- 
arate. Fred had scarcely time to make the train at the little 
way station, and was soon off with a hasty good-bye, and 
Judge Bullion was left alone with his thoughts. He felt that 
the crisis was upon him, and he must go forth to meet his 
fate. He, too, made a hasty preparation, and on the follow- 
ing day took his departure and bid the hills a last and long 
farewell, more sad, if that was possible, than when he sought 
solace there but three days before. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


225 


PART III 


CHAPTER XXIX 



The fleeting relish at sensation’s brim 
Had in it the best ferment of the wine.’ 


HILE the senior member of the law firm of Bullion, 
Ashton & Bullion was away among* Hampshire 
hills seeking again the lost opportunity of song, the 
other members of the firm had given themselves up to a 
quiet summer vacation. 

They did not select the crowded hotel at the fashionable 
watering place with its gaping curiosity and sublime folly. 
They chose a more retired and healthful resort on the chain 
f great lakes. Lakes if but beyond the confines of this 
public, if in Europe, thousands of Americans would visit 
nually. They were not in pursuit of happiness, they had 
at, they were seeking for an opportunity to enjoy it. 

They found a cool secluded spot on the upper lake re- 
ions and arranged to spend the heated term in rest, quiet 
and fishing, and the scooping up of whole bucketsful of re- 
newed vigor and health out of the blue-green waters and 
health giving and bracing lake breezes. 

It has been said that liberty is brightest in dungeons, or 

1 ™ 


226 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


to those who have been deprived of its blessings. Never 
before did the earth, air, water, birds, trees and flowers seem 
so gracious, so good to Ashton. The Supreme Architect of 
this universe had surely succored him. His prayers for de- 
liverance had been uttered loud enough to be heard in 
heaven, and the solitary walls of his prison were now ex- 
changed for this wide, glad place. Not only for his deliver- 
ance alone was he now breathing a prayer as he looked out 
upon heaven’s blue and the sparkling waters of the lake, but 
for his deliverer, or the means through which his deliverance 
was effected. 

On the morning after their arrival in the evening, he 
had risen early, that he might take his constitutional before 
the guests were up. He walked out with a brisk and hur- 
ried step, almost impatient to be alone on the lake beach. 
When he had turned the point of land that hid the little 
hotel behind the cluster of pines, he stopped and stood en- 
tranced by all the glory around him. So absorbed was he 
that he forgot his boat and began strolling along the beach. 

From the day that Julia had made it possible for him to 
escape, and proved to him that her plan for his deliverance 
was feasible, he had never known the moment when she 
was out of his thoughts, and now that he was here alone he 
was feeling the loss of her charms and joyousness. 

There was a sadness in Ashton’s joy even, that made 
him sombre. His surcharged feelings found vent ofttimes in 
the bright flashes that gilded all the west, and flooded all the 
orient with gold. On such occasions, Isaiah’s prophesies 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


227 


suited his thoughts best. He gazed off toward the light, 
house on the opposite shore. The first gleam of July sun- 
shine was playing on its polished, glassy surface. He 
stretched forth his hand and repeated words so familiar to 
him : “ Thy watchmen shall lift up the voice, with the voice 
together shall they sing, for they shall see eye to eye, when 
the Lord shall bring again Zion.” “ Break forth into joy, 
sing together, ye waste places of Jerusalem, for the Lord 
hath comforted his people, he hath redeemed Jerusalem. ’’ 

Just then a robin flitted before him and lit almost at the 
water’s edge; made two or three short, quick hops, spread 
its wings as if to embrace the ripples on the beach, splashed 
the water over itself, repeated the act one, two, three times, 
shook the sparkling crystals out of its feathers, and flew 
away, full of nature’s gladness. 

Shelley’s Skylark, * ‘Singing still dost soar, and soaring, 
ever singest,” was vocal in his mind. 

“ Teach me half the gladness 
That thy brain must know; 

Such harmonious madness 
From my lips would flow, 

The world should listen then 
As I am listening now.” 

“For all the beauty contained in these lines,” said Ash- 
ton, “there is something about the weird wickedness of 
i Shelley’s mind that even his best thoughts produce a feeling 
of vague unrest in one’s heart.” In Ashton’s moment of 
vague unrest the vision of the son of Amos, his head shrouded 
in his mantel, sitting in the door of his tent, was always visi- 


228 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


ble to him and his mind’s eye. And again the words of the 
prophet were on his lips. “ How beautiful upon the moun- 
tains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings” — an- 
other voice, rich, and clear, as the tones of a silver bell here 
chimed in with, “ why don’t you say are the feet of her that 
bringeth good tidings?” 

“ Because,” replied Ashton, ‘ ‘I did not know that she 
was bringing them until she spoke.’’ 

“ Thank you. Good morning.” 

“ I am surprised to see you so early in the morning.” 

She held out her two hands as she approached him. 

“ Surprised, is that all?’’ 

{i A woman’s heart is wholly woman’s, a thing apart 
from all the rest of the world,” said Ashton. “ I wish some- 
times that I could be lifted up the white heights of her 
womanhood until I could for one moment feel the wondrous 
depths of her love.” 

“ Then you are more than surprised?” 

“ I need not say to you that I was more than surprised, 
you know that.” 

“Yes, that is true, but that is not what you were think- 

• „ > > 

mg. 

“ What was I thinking?” 

“ How do I love thee?” 

“ I know the next, ‘ Let me count the ways.’ ” 

“ I was about to say that I was not only surprised but ” 

she lifted her finger, “there, we’ll not have any after- 
thought so early in the morning, too prosy.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


229 


“Yes, but I am delighted to see you.” 

“ That would come with better grace from a man who 
had not stolen away in the gray dawn of early morning for 
the purpose of being alone with himself.” She stopped and 
picked up a smooth pebble and threw it into the water, turn- 
ing round she said, with a smile lightening her beautiful face 
and a twinkle in her eyes, “say, John, why do you talk so 
much to yourself? is it because you never find such an appre- 
ciative audience when you address others?” 

“ Do you object?” 

“ No, but that don’t answer my question, come now, 
be responsive as you always say to an unwilling witness.’’ 


“ I presume it is for the same reason the negro boy gave 
when he was asked why he held his paper so close to his 
eyes while reading.” 

“ What was that?” 

1 “ He said, 4 because he got more good out of it that 
way.’ ” 

“ You don’t seem to be using your stick, let me take 
it please, thanks.” They walked on in silence. 

“ That’s philosophical.” 

“ What is philosophical?” 

“ Why, that he got more good out of it that way.” 

“ I’ve thought so myself sometimes.” 

“ How strange you men are, no sameness of grain about 
you, none whatever.’’ 

“ Now, what’s the occasion of this reflection on us dear 
i men?’’ 


230 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“Yes, you poor, dear things, only ‘ sometimes,’ yes, I 

see.” 

“ What do you refer to now?” 

“You had another thought that we would get more 
good out of if you would only say it aloud this morning.’’ 

“ What’s that?” 

“Then you have had more than one?” 

“Probably.” 

“Well, I’ll only name one.” 

'“ Which one?” 

“That we take a row on the lake this morning.” 

“That is what I came down here for, when the beauty 
of the surroundings so affected me that I took to musing, 
talking to myself as you put it and forgot all about it, and if 
I had not been talking to myself I should have been far out 
on the lake and you here alone.” 

“Thanks to your musing then.” 

“ Do you know what I was thinking?” said Ashton. 

“Hardly.” 

“I was thinking that I should like to go over to that . 
pile of rocks that stands out above the water in the lake 
yonder. We can make the trip and return in an hour and a 
half, will we go?” 

“ If you like.” 

Ashton was an expert with an oar and he threw his en- 
tire self into the exercise this morning. The sun was fairly 
above the water of the lake as they neared the huge pile of 
rocks sitting serenely in the blue-green of the lake. He 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


231 


pulled around the eastern point from the south, both south 
and east presented only perpendicular rocks rising out of the 
water, the north was rugged and jutting, great caverns had 
been hollowed out of the rock by the action of wind and 
storm, water and ice, until there was ample room to steer a 
small boat out of sight under this over-hanging ledge. In 
fact there was a spacious grotto of fifty feet in length and ex- 
tending into the rock more than twenty feet. 

The present stage of water left a smooth level surface of 
rock forming a perfect floor to this grotto, that was now 
about two feet higher than the highest point reached by the 
splashing of the waves as they rolled under the ledge. There 
was a distance of ten feet from this floor to the over-hanging 
rock above, and here and there at almost regular intervals of 
ten or more feet huge pillars that seemed harder than the 
surrounding rock, and being impervious to the action of the 
elements, stood up as supports to the jutting ledges. These 
supports gave the cavern the appearance of an approach to 
some ancient temple. 

They were both struck with the grotesqueness of the 
place and almost simultaneously expressed the desire to 
spend a day in this cool, secluded spot. Ashton pulled the 
boat along side the floor and they took in the surroundings. 
“ Plenty of light to read and write by,” said Ashton. “ A 
fine place to swing a hammock from between these two cen- 
ter columns,” said Julia. “Behind this point the boat can 
be dragged up and protected from beating against the rocks,” 
observed Ashton. 


232 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“Let us see,” said Julia, “we want two rugs, an 
ottoman, hammock, table with folding legs, two chairs 
and — ” 

“ A lunch,” it is not necessary to say from whom this 
last suggestion came. Ashton looked at his watch, “six 
o’clock, seven will be good time for breakfast, nine will find 
us here for the day.” 

To an active mind the present moment is nothing, life is 
all in the future, there is in fact no present, you say now, it is 
gone, it is a part of the past. The space between that mo- 
ment and nine o’clock was nothing, it was the pulling of the 
boat to the shore, breakfasting, getting the necessary outfit 
and returning, simply a condition precedent to the day’s do- 
ings. To the mind of such a man as that to mention a thing, 
was the doing, when commenced it was finished, for at the mo- 
ment of beginning he was contemplating the joy there would 
be in the thing itself. 

As he said, nine o’clock found him there, busy with 
ropes swinging the hammock between the pillars, Julia had 
spread out the rugs, unfolded the chairs and set up the table, 
and was now unpacking her writing material, for she had de- 
cided to write to Mary Forsythe, yes, ,Mary had a right to 
her father’s name since he had again taken her home. 

When all was done Ashton began looking for his books, 
books were as necessary to him as the air he breathed. He 
had brought a good supply of novels, French, and otherwise. 

He had decided to read again Hugo’s masterpiece. The 
character of the hero was a study that filled his mind with 




VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


233 


something more than delight. He read and re read his es- 
cape, his journey, his ponderings, his self-sacrifice. 

He had secured his boat, as at first contemplated, and 
now approached it, took out his bundle of books, turned 
round, and stood rooted to the spot, he had an eye for the 
weird, the grotesque, the unusual, the unexpected. For the 
moment he forgot that he had taken part in transforming 
this tenantless cavern into a habitation fit for the gods. Julia 
was seated at the table with a package of stationery before 
her, preparatory to writing her friend. Ashton had never 
been so conscious of her beauty as at this moment. She 
wore a silk cap of sky blue, with shield in front and rear, a 
pale blue flannel dress, that even Worth must have pro- 
nounced superb, if he had been there to have seen it. It was 
an entire garment, devoid of all that fuss and flounce, and fur- 
below, and overskirt, with front and back drapery, cut with 
a view to be worn with corset, and reeds and “ stays and 
guys,” as a sailor would say It was fastened in front with 
a silk cord laced th-ough eyelets, the collar was thrown back 
far enough to expose the neck and throat. The lacing of 
the cord was from the waist up to the throat and tied in a 
bow holding a boquet of moss roses and heliotrope. The 
skirt was plain, long enough for modesty, and short enough 
for convenience. Her feet were protected by a pair of kid 
shoes with flat heels and square toes, and in gentlemen’s 
wear would be called “ Southern tie.’’ 

Ashton approached her, book in hand, he had intended 
climbing into the hammock, now he felt that would be — to 


234 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


use a lawyer’s expression — to remote. He pushed the otto- 
man near her feet and sat upon it. 

“ You said it would do you good to have me say one 
thing aloud this morning. I am so impressed with that dress 
that I must say so aloud.” 

“ Thank you,” she said, “I suppose that’s the proper 
thing to say even when your partner compliments you on 
your taste in dress.” 

‘ ‘By the way,’’ said she, ‘‘have you ever noticed the 
sublime folly among women on the subject of dress and how 
it all fades away when they have any thing else to do, or oc- 
cupy their minds? I have observed the factory girls, shop 
girls, the clerks, the cashiers, the stenographers, the type- 
writer operators, all wear something plain, attractive, neat, 
I fancy that even on a Sunday, a holiday, their dresses are 
plainer, neater, and more becoming than the over dressed 
women who do nothing but dress.” 

“True, it is over dress, the same thing can be seen in 
the under-graduate, glorying in his over-education that all fades 
away when he gets out into the world and is compelled to make 
some practical use of what he has acquired. “ And further 
more,” said Ashton, “ it all bespeaks one thing,” “ and that 
one thing is this,’’ said Julia, “ that when women find their 
places and vocations they will drop their vanity and non- 
sense about dress and be plain, sensible, people.” 

Ashton began looking at the chair, the rug, the ottoman, 
and the hammock. 




“ What now? ” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


235 


“ I thought I would occupy the hammock, but since you 
look so remarkably cool and comfortable,” and he might 
have said lovely, “ I have decided to lie down here by your 
side.” 

She arranged her writing material, while he overturned 
the chair, making an incline plane, then spread out the rug 
and lay down in a half reclining, half sitting posture close 
by her. She had hardly become accustomed to his snow-white 
curls. There was such a contrast between this and his once 
raven locks. She looked out on the water now shimmering 
beneath the July sunshine. Her thoughts were far away. 
She almost shuddered. She put out her left hand to see if 
it was really Ashton or a phantom. The real presence was 
so comforting to her that she let her hand rest on his head. 
He was so well satisfied that his open book lay pressed 
against his breast beneath his folded arms. 

What a study for an artist. Is there anything wanting 
to complete the picture? Nothing. And nothing wanted 
is bliss. It is the collecting of the lights and shadows from 
the brow of the Infinite. It is the stage setting by the di- 
rection of the supreme intelligence, and that is happiness. 

The greater the gratitude, the higher the appreciation, 
the fewer the words, the less demonstration. So with grief. 
The more crushing, the more deadening and benumbing the 
effects. 

Laughter and tears are but surface indications. Great 
joy blots out the dimples of the one as great grief seals up 
the fountains of the other. Julia had neither tears for the 


236 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


one nor laughter for the other, and her gratitude to Mary 
Forsythe had been conveyed by a look and warm embrace 
that both minds perfectly comprehended. She now deter- 
mined to say in words, poor though they might be, at least 
an earnest of what she felt. 

As she looked out upon the waters now sparkling and 
dancing in the morning sunlight and fanned by a stiffening 
breeze, she said to herself, “ could occasion more befitting be 
selected to aid me in this blessed privilege? ” Her full and 
overflowing heart seemed to ooze out at her fingers’ ends as 
she had never known it to do before. It was inspiration, 
nothing less. Never once did her left hand leave its resting 
place in Ashton’s hair. Maybe it was the brilliant and 
strong mind of the man roused from its very depths by the 
thoughts and remembrances of his anxiety, his dread, his 
awful expectations and sufferings that now communicated 
and blended with the woman’s heart and affections. 

If Julia’s mind and heart had joined forces in giving 
“shape and hue and odor and sweet sound ” to her sense of 
gratitude, Ashton’s mind had not been less active, or less fer- 
vent in a different direction. 

It was the troop of spirits that hovered over the pale 
form of the immortal Keats as seen by the “ inner eye ” of 
“ that phantom among men.” 

“ Desires and adorations. 

Winged persuasions and veiled destinies, 

Splendors, and glooms, and glimmering incarnations 
Of hopes and fears, and twilight fantasies, 

And sorrow, with her family of sighs, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


237 


And pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam 
Of her own dying smile instead of eyes.” 

He had been engaged in a retrospect of all his past. 
For another one of the countless times he had speculated on 
his origin, his father, his mother, who he was, how he came 
to bear the name of Ashton, why Judge Bullion had mani- 
fested so much interest in him, why he had placed him in 
daily association with — to him — the loveliest and noblest of 
women, and enjoined upon him the only condition of his life, 
“not to bestow his affections without the Judge’s consents 
How little he knew, at the time of making this rash promise 
of his affections. “Bestow,” yes, that was the word, the 
precise word, that was just what he said. “Bestow,” to 
stow, to make use of, to lay out or up, to give, to confer. 

Had the learned Judge spoken after due deliberation, 

; and reflection? It must be so, he was accustomed to give 
construction to the import of language and words. His life 
had been given up to the study of words. His first introduc- 
tion to the study of landed property brought him in contact 
with a sort of legal chestnut, a query as to the meaning of 
words, “ whether the word was of limitation of the estate or 
words of purchase.” He could not have used the word with- 
out due deliberation. But here was a condition, a part of him- 
j self that he had no knowledge of at the time he had assented 
, to the Judge’s wish. His affections did not consult him, they 
did not say, “ you are our master, you have the prerogative 
to * bestow’ us upon whomsoever you see fit.” Not at all. 
He did not possess his affections. His affections possessed 


238 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


him. They had taken possession of his will, and had be- 
stowed him. At that very hour he was being given away by 
his affections. He was conferred upon Julia Bullion, and no 
power in his being could separate him from her. It was 
“ love,” “ and against such there is no law.” 

What was he to do? Was he to go to his senior part- 
ner and confess, to acknowledge that his affections had con- 
quered and ask to be released from his obligations? That 
looked like an easy thing to do. The easiest thing in the 
world, no explanation needed, just ask to be absolved. 
Then every thing came back to him and if it was a decision 
between approaching his benefactor, his partner, to be ab- 
solved from his vow, his promise, or go forth to face the 
cannon, he would have said the latter. And why? Heaven 
alone may know, mortals never. We would go out on the 
streets, the highways and ask alms of a stranger, but we 
would die before he would lay bare our hearts to our nearest 
of kin. 

Then Julia’s mention of other thoughts that he did not 
utter aloud, in their talk earlier in the day, to what did she 
refer? For nearly two years his life had been made up of 
question marks, relating mostly to himself, he had been a 
pendulum vibrating between fear and hope. To-day he was 
a free man, vindicated from the charges preferred against 
him by circumstances. To the one woman by his side, aided 
by another equally as self-sacrificing, as heroic, he owed his 
life. He had been accustomed to look upon woman through 
the lawyer’s spectacles. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


239 


“ Something better than his dog, 

A little dearer than his horse.” 

Now to him she was not only his equal, but his superior. 
He had interviewed himself to that extent that he knew that 
he never would broach the subject to his senior partner ; 
whether he would to his junior partner was a most perplexing 
question. 

He had an inkling of the fact that Judge Bullion had 
once or twice attempted to “ bestow ** her affections on Fred 
Bullion, that he was unable to deliver the goods, that she had 
declined even to meet him at dinner at home. This looked 
like a strong presumption that the Judge had intended that 
the partnership should extend no further than to the practice 
of the law. But again, if he had any objections to anything 
farther, it certainly would be an easy matter to say as much. 
The Judge was not a blind man, he ought to comprehend the 
situation and appreciate the relation now existing. Did 
his silence give consent, or did he intend to remain silent in 
1 the presence of all these surroundings and thereby be estopped 
from asserting his right to say what Ashton should do with 
his affections? 

Ashton’s heart was a large part of himself, and his spirit 
of self-sacrifice was equally as potent an influence as his af- 
fections. He was one of the very few men who could appre- 
( ciate fully Mrs. Browning’s lines, 

Kl 

h We walked too straight for fortune’s end, 

We loved too true to keep a friend.” 

He preferred to make an immolation of his heart upon 


240 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


the altar of his affections, rather than carry about the con- 
sciousness that another’s love was unrequited ; that if his po- 
sition had been different she might have loved Fred more 
than she ever could love him. His tenderness and spirit of 
self-sacrifice might be rewarded in the future by the possession 
of a conscience void of offense. It certainly did not tend to 
make him happy in the present. 

That man whose love is so true, so loyal to the woman 
he adores that he will voluntarily surrender his right to press 
his claim for fear that she does not know her own heart, or 
that she would be happier if she bestowed her wealth of af- 
fection on another, may have the approbation of his own con- 
science, but the world will either call him a fool or a knave, 
or an unhappy mixture of both, and the thing he calls abne- 
gation will be credited to him as cold-blooded hypocrisy, or 
something else equally as complimentary. 

He that knows the good and does it not, because he 
prefers the wrong, may rightfully be considered as guilty of 
sin. But he that knows the good and hesitates, hoping that 
another may do better, ought not to be adjudged a sinner. 

These were some of the thoughts that were being 
analyzed by Ashton while Julia was pouring out her full 
heart to Mary. 

As discourteous as it may seem to the cultivated reader 
to have placed before him the private correspondence that 
was only meant for the eyes of another, yet the liability of 
giving offense is hazarded simply to show how differently 
their two minds and hearts were disposed each toward the 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


241 


other. The first page of Julia’s letter to Mary had slipped 
from under her hand. It brings the blush to coldly set it 
down here, but it runs as follows: 

“Happy Island” Lake, July 13th. 

“ My Mary — 

“ Dearest Among Women; To-day we are happy. Yes, extremely 
happy. The zest of it all is in the gratitude we owe you. Our pulses beat 
double in thanks and every throb blesses you. 

“When we sue God for ourselves, He hears that name of thine, and 
our eyes are moist with the tears of three. 

“Your weary footprints from Paris to the secluded spot beneath the 
shadows of the Alps are all strewn with the choicest forget-me-nots of our 
two memories; with the brightest immortelloes of our undying loves. Every 
day the choicest and purest flowers of our love and gratitude are piled and 
heaped upon our memories of your self-sacrifice for us. 

“ So long as the roseate tints of each returning morning shall continue 
to flood the soul’s east window with divine surprise, it will cause new blos- 
soms of gratitude to open and bloom in our loves. So long as each ray re- 
flected from the pale-faced moon shall kiss the closing petals with silvery 
lips, your memory shall have the sweetest of their perfumes. 

“ Your hands bridged the chasm of our night. Your strength made us 
strong. Your faith took the troubled Gallilee to your bosom and it was 
still. Your hands brushed the mist from my eyes and nerved his hand to 
spring the bolts and set him free. 

“ Your feet were swifter than the roe upon the mountain. Your tongue 
was more than refined silver in its speech, and more than golden in its 
silence. 

“ Your sympathy and love were more to our sad hearts than corn, and 
wine and oil. Your thoughts were sandals to the flying feet that left no 
foot-prints to guide the pursuer. Your discretion was the thick bosses upon 
the bucklers that girded our loins. Your forethought chained the lions in 
the way. Your tears opened the fountains, and the parched ground became 
pools of living water and streams flowed in the desert. Your prayers 
strengthened the weak hands, and confirmed the feeble knees. 

“ Your voice caused us to lift our eyes and behold God coming with a 
recompense to save us. 

“ Your wisdom made the blind to see, the deaf to hear, the lame to leap 
as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb to sing. 

“ And oh thou, blessed among women, Mary, dearest, through your 

16 


242 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


interposition, and aid, and strength, and counsels, and wisdom, and love, 
God hath to-day wiped all tears away. 

“ Even though I try to tell you how much — ” 

Julia had finished her letter. Ashton had broken off his 
reverie. It was the hour for lunch, blest hour of dinner. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


243 


CHAPTER XXX 


“ And paradise was paradise the more, 

Known once and forever barred against satiety.” 



AUGHTER has been designated the dividing line 
between beast and man, the latter being the only 
animal that laughs. He is likewise the only animal 
that prepares his food in advance and eats at regular intervals. 


That man who does not look forward to the hour of 
dinner with anticipations of pleasure and delight, especially 
when he expects to dine with his best friend, is lacking in the 
chief elements of a generous and genial nature, and is destined 
to suffer with either indigestion or gout, and miss half of the 
real pleasure in life that is worth living for. 

“He that hath a merry heart hath a continual feast,” 
and when merry hearts join in a feast the pleasure is in- 
creased tenfold. Julia and Ashton would both have sub- 
scribed to the truthfulness of this statement and also that the 
most enjoyable dish in any menu is the dish of conversation. 

While these two persons had been students and partners 
for more than twelve years they had been constantly to- 
gether, save the internal in which Ashton had been under 
the ban of the law. They had come to know each other’s 
minds on every subject, save and except one that had been 
interdicted when they first crossed the threshold of their pro- 
fession. 

They had been together constantly and there was no 


244 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


necessity for any arrangements for meeting, no pangs at part- 
ings, and not until the happening of the death of Dr. Arling- 
ton and their separation did they realize how necessary they 
were to each other’s happiness. But the time must come, 
the moment to decide whether on the good or the evil side, 
and they must needs know each other’s hearts. 

The book that Ashton had held so quietly on his breast 
all the forenoon lay open on the rock beside the ottoman. 

“ Was you taking in that book by absorption, I noticed 
that you did not read any?” 

‘‘ Your hand on my head started a train of thought that 
was of vastly more moment to me than the reflections of the 
hero of Hugo, and I was loathe to give it up.” 

“I noticed that, but what started this reverie, was it 
the book?” 

“Not the book.” 

“No.” The intonation Julia gave this often fatal, 
monosyllabic word was foreign to its usual meaning, half ex- 
clamatory, half interrogatory, the blending of surprise and 
question far more expressive than, What! “you surprise 
me, let’s hear it?’’ It is a wondrous use of the human voice 
that tells one of the pleasure of the surprise and indicates a 
wish that one proceed without the harsh breaking in of re- 
quest to tell the thing one would rather volunteer than be re- 
quested to relate. 

“ Well, yes, no, it was not the book, it was suggested 
by that little episode of this morning, in which you drew out 
of me the cause for my talking to myself.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


245 


“ I remember,” with a twinkle in her eye, “you have 
been thinking thoughts that would do you more good if you 
could think them aloud, would they?” 

“ Precisely.” 

“You remember what Mark Antony said about his dy- 
ing, ‘ once on a time,’ ‘ that no hour would be more fit than 
Caesar’s death hour.’ I presume your thoughts were 
happy thoughts and no hour would be more fit than this 
hour, kindly proceed.” She folded her arms and said, “I’ll 
be the Portia of this court, proceed, sir.” 

“If it is anything nominated in the bond the law will 
allow it, and this court will award it.” 

“But hold. I do not like the idea of being made a 
shylock of without my consent.” 

“ This court, sir, will save the mark,’’ with mock se- 
verity, “ proceed, sir.” 

“ Will I begin with the stereotyped phrase that stands 
at the beginning of all fairy stories, ' Once on a time?’ I 
say once on a time.’’ 

“ All on a time.” 

“ Who’s on a time? ” 

“ I call ‘ time.’ This court cannot be trifled with.’’ 

“Without any intention to exhibit any contempt for this 
court, permit me to observe in passing, this court seems to 
be altogether too familiar with an expression more applicable 
to that other court where the contestants shake hands before 
they begin. Shake?” 

“Inasmuch as you have so slightly concealed your 


246 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


contempt for this court, the contestants will not shake before 
they begin.” 

“ Well, then, if this court pleases.” 

“This court awaits your pleasure.” 

“ The pound of flesh, metaphorically speaking, that I 
am about to present to this court for its consideration, may 
truthfully be said to be the pound nominated in the bond, 
but unlike the one nominated in the bond, it is not the one 
nearest the heart, but that troublesome thing, the heart 
itself.” 

“You are no shylock. He would have the ducats first, 
daughter afterward.” 

“ Does this court presume to intimate that I seek to re- 
verse the expression of the old Jew, have the daughter first 
and the ducats afterward? ” 

“ This court does not entertain the thought for a moment 
that you mean to seek anything of the kind ; that you wish 
to substitute a caricature of shylock for the real man, to swap 
his presence for a 1 personified epigram.’ ’’ 

“You are the ‘ Noble Judge.’ ” 

“ Fear not. You shall not fare worse than did the 
‘ Second Daniel.’ ’’ 

“ Worse, did you say? ” 

“I did.” 

a Then, shall I fare as well? ” 

“Do you desire more than is nominated in the bond? ” 

“ No more'.’’ 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


247 


“ You stand on the terms of the bond; you care only 
for the — ” 

( ‘ Let me draw the decree ; at least let me insist on one 
line, ‘that the giver be included in the gift.’ ’’ 

“ It would be more convenient if the gift remain in the 
giver.” 

“ We accept the court’s amendment.” 

“ But to lay aside this badinage,” said Ashton, “we 
have no shylock here,” placing his hand on his heart, “ and 
thank God we have more than a Portia.” 

“ That is high compliment ; higher never was bestowed.’’ 

‘ ‘ It is more than deserved.” 

‘ ‘ Portia was a doctor of the laws, and well skilled withal. ’’ 

“Yes, and we have here one skilled in the law, and 
what is of thrice the value, A Woman” 

“ Do you really think then, that the woman is of more 
value than the ‘ lawyer?’ ” 

“ She has been of more value than many lawyers.” 

“ Is that the thing you wanted to say aloud?” 

“ That is one thing that I wanted to say aloud?” 

“ Your emphasis on one indicates that there is more 
than one thing that you have to say.” 

“ I do.” He drew the ottoman to her side, “permit 

^ » > 

me. 

“ Certainly.” 

He sat facing her, his left arm across her lap, his right 
hand holding hers. It is easier to think than it is to put 


248 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


your thoughts into exact phraseology, for oft the feeling is 
fleeter than slow- footed thought. 

“ And now that I come to speak aloud about it, I don’t 
know that there is much room for talking.” 

“ If you had not said the thing in the bond was hearts, 
I probably would not insist on your talking, but since we 
have talked of every thing but that, just for the once forget 
that I am a lawyer, like yourself, and think of me as a 
woman.” 

“ Yes, as I said before, of more value than many law- 
years. And since, as a woman, you have shown your- 
self superior to all the lawyers, I have come to see how 
much you are to me.” 

“ We have both had an experience.” 

“ True, but I have experienced how strong you are, and 
how helpless I have been.” 

“ But you under-estimate yourself. If I had happened 
to have been in your stead, you would have turned heaven 
and earth, but you would have found the guilty party. Your 
voice would have been more eloquent than all the words that 
fell ever from angels’ lips. Yours would have been more 
than ‘ trumpet-tongued.’ ” 

He pressed her hand against his moist cheek and said 
never a word. His mind had gone back to that crucial 
hour. 

“ It could not have had more effect upon any jury than 
your mute lips had upon those moral cowards.” 

A gust of wind had blown Julia’s letter to Mary Forsythe 




VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 249 

from the corner of the table and fell in her lap. Ashton 
picked it up. 

He glanced at it. It had something in it that made him 
feel that he wanted to read. “ Can I?’’ She assented. 
When he had finished he looked up at her, his eyes were 
full of tears. 

“ Thank God, bless God,’’ he said, and motioned for a 
pen that lay on the table. He wrote in his clear, bold hand, 
“ Mary, kindly consider that both our hearts and hands were 
joined in penning this, and that the tears of gratitude have 
fallen on these pages from the eyes of two. — John Ashton.’’ 

‘ ‘ Mary can never thank you for that letter as I do. Our 
thoughts this morning remind me of Macaulay’s two different 
men in his description of the Puritan. You remember that, 
do you not? ” 

“ How does that run? ’’ 

“ The one all self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, pas- 
sion; the other proud, calm, inflexible, sagacious.” 

“Not exactly in those attributes,’’ said Ashton, always 
abasing himself for fear of appearing egotistic, “ but in two 
channels as wide apart.” 

“Allow me — I will accept one in the first, gratitude, and 
apply one in the second to you.” 

“ Which one? ” 

“ Well, two, if you please.” 

He ran them over audibly, proud, calm, inflexible, sa- 
gacious. 

“ Yes, three.” 


250 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ Which three? ” She drew herself up to her full height, 
folded her arms across her bosom, and in slow and sonorous 
tone repeated 4 ‘proud, calm, sagacious.” 

“ No, no; not the first nor last.” 

“Yes, and I’ll add another, too — self-sacrificing. ” 

“ Why do you say self-sacrificing — did you read my 
thoughts this morning? ” 

“No, but I read your life though in your daily acts, 
thoughts and deeds, and it makes up one chain of self- 
sacrifice. ” 

“ That’s more than I deserve, Julia. ’’ 

“You ask me if I read your thoughts this morning? 
No, not exactly, but I can divine some things from what 
you say about your spirit of self-sacrificing.’’ 

“ Well, what is it? ” 

“You was thinking as you always do, of sacrificing 
yourself for something or somebody.” 

“ How do you know that? ” 

“ I don’t know, only that I do know that you are as far 
from being like other men as they are from being anything 
but selfish.’’ 

“ Do you admire selfishness in men?” 

“ Well, that all depends. ’’ 

“Upon what!” 

“ How far it is carried.” 

“How far should it be carried?” 

“ It would not be unreasonable in a man to hold pleas- 
ure and enjoyment for himself at about the same market 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


251 


itj/alue that he would place upon them if he was about to be- 
j$ 5tow them upon another.” 

“ If there were none to practice this lack of selfishness, 
Dr unselfishness if you like that better, what state of affairs 
\vould that bring about?” 

“ Then there would be none to accept this self sacrific- 
ing of yours.” 

“ And then you would not have the pleasure of writing 
If. | .this letter of yours, showing how much you appreciate this 
i'ery thing, self-sacrificing.” 

“ I would not abrogate the golden rule.” 

“ What would you call Mary’s and your part in my res- 

•: - ue ?” 

“ That was an extreme case. She did what she did be- 
cause she loved me, but that was not the primary cause, and 
J,it will, no doubt, astonish you when you hear what she said 
to me about it. I had failed to analyze it and probably 
never would if she had not told me. She said, * the pendu- 
Jlum of my heart had been swung so far into the regions of 
g hate, that when it returned it passed into the region of extreme 
love and pity.’ ” 

“ If I had not known her I might have been astonished, 
but she said and did so many things out of the ordinary that 
I came to believe her capable of most any thing.” 

“She is truly a most remarkable woman.” 

“ I will always remember a remark she made in reply 
. to my saying that I could never find words to convey my 
^appreciation of what she had done for me, and that she was 


252 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


doing altogether too much for me. Her reply was, ‘yo 
are not selfish enough for that, Mr. Ashton.’ ” 

“ True, and selfishness is never so apparent in the se 
fish person, as it is when hit off by self-sacrifice in another. 

“ Is the last remark an abstraction or an observation? 
inquired Ashton. 

“That is an observation taken from life by myself.” 

“ How do you account for this extreme selfishness ii 
some persons and the exact opposite in others?” 

“ Society has two rules, one for man and another fo 
woman, and you are on the wrong side. You place your 
self on the side that has been allotted to us and that is wha 
makes you so conspicuous.” 

“ I was not aware of that.’’ 

“ I know it, and many is the time I had a mind to tel 
you of it, but it was so delightful to see you on our sid< 
that I feared that if you discovered it, you would desert us.’ 

“ I have often thought that society was wrong, that civ 
ilization was wrong, and half believe that originally there wa: 
but one law for both sexes.’’ 

“ I am of the same opinion, and in the not far distan 
future it will be so again. You know that I have nevei 
talked much of my mother,” said Julia. At that word 
“mother,” a pained expression came over Ashton’s face. 

“ I know,” said Ashton. 

u But you do not know why.” 

“No.” 

u Because — ’’ 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


253 


J 

“ Because why ? ” 

“ Because society killed her.” 

* ‘‘No!” 

“Yes, killed her; and the painful thing about it to me 
khat she realized it so keenly.” 

There was a gleam of light in Ashton’s eyes, such as 
inounces that an inspiration has come to one. “Now I 
nk I understand the cause for that intense reserve between 
ur father and you. Does he stand for society? ” 

“ Precisely that. ” 

“ Then that is the reason for one fact always so notica- 
b, and yet so unexplainable to me.” 

“ What is that? ” 

“That so many things he practices as a virtue, you 
the and hate, and scorn, as a vice.” 
i “ Truly, and this has been one of the great trials of my 

“I think I can explain that.” 

“If you can I shall consider you my benefactor.” 

“He has been such an absolute devotee to the law — 
j 1 society is nothing but a law unto itself — that it amounts 
ireligion with him.” 

“ God save the mark, if that is religion.” 

“ I say, to him. ” 

“Yes, I understand you.” 

“ I do not think you do, quite, if you will pardon me 
saying so, and permit me to explain what I mean.” 

“ Go on.” 


254 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“With him, I say, it amounts to religion. In other 
words, he affects to believe it, just as society affects to be- 
lieve it, while in his heart of hearts he believes no such thing. 
He and society would fain believe that this two-rule law that 
you spoke of was right, and at the same time they both see 
and feel daily what an abject failure it is.” 

“Good, you are a philosopher. I will have to secure 
you an opportunity to air your wisdom.” 

“ Honor bright? ” 

“ Yes, truly.’’ 

“ Now that you applaud my thought on that subject, 
allow me to say another thing that I think is caused by this 
two-rule law, and I want to thank you for coining that ex- 
pression.” 

“ What expression? ’’ 

“Two-rule law. 

“ I did not know that that was original with me.” 

“ I do not know that it is, but I do not know of its be- 
ing just so happily or tersely expressed by any one before,’’ 

“ I bow very low, thank you.” 

“ Why all this ado?” 

“Because you are again out of man’s beaten way of the 
high and mighty prerogative that scorns being taught by a 
woman.’’ 

“A compliment, then, you are bestowing upon me that 
you think any other man would not have fished for.” 

“No, indeed, But do you really think I compliment 


you? 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


255 


“ I do,” 

“Well, don’t tell any other man that you think so, for 
: you do, he will be seeking to hold an inquest of lunacy on 
Lome one, and I don’t think he will select me for the sub- 
let.” 

‘‘ This two-rule law has divided the world into two 
lasses on the line of the sexes. The so-called weaker is 
ontinually sacrificing its pleasures, forever submitting itself 
o pain, physical and mental, until with most men ‘ woman ’ 
j s but another name for a pain in the side and a headache, 
Until she stands for weakness, debility and disease, and worse 
han that, to the abridgement and circumscribing of her en- 
ironments, her avenues for work, wages and personal lib- 
erty. And while it has done this for the woman, it has done 
vhat you have just called my attention to, and more than 
hat, has made him selfish, brutal, unnatural, and an abnor- 
nal animal.” 

‘ ‘ Do you really attribute man’s selfishness then to this 
wo-rule law? ” 

“To a great extent man is what his surroundings make 
iim. He is continually receiving at the expense of her giv- 
||ng, and the inequality is certainly great.” 

“ How will you correct this inequality? ” 

“ Draw a line on her self-sacrifice, cut off her unselfish- 
i ess, and that will put the proper restraint on his growing 
ippetite of selfishness. Teach man that it is base, ignoble, 
■or him to thus continually accept this pleasure and gratifi- 
:ation at the hands of woman; that it is at the expense not 


256 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


only of her generosity and nobleness of soul, but at the ex- 
pense of her health and life; that if this constant giving, 
this self-sacrificing is elevating an ennobling to her, that it is 
positively degrading and ignoble in him to be always receiv- 
ing. That the blessings that flow from giving and receiving 
must have a limit; that beyond that limit the blessing be- 
comes a positive curse; that is, as we debase and degrade 
ourselves morally, just so sure we destroy and debase her 
mentally and physically.” 

“That is my position exactly, that it is absolutely nec- 
essary for us to insist upon our rights, that we are bound 
both morally and physically to assert ourselves; for if these 
things are of value to men they are surely of as much value 
to us; if it is worth a big, broad-shouldered man’s time to 
stand up and insist upon the enjoyment of his rights and 
privileges, it is equally as important for me to do likewise.” 

“ And it will never come to pass that your rights will 
be respected until you do insist upon enjoying them.” 

“There is another thing of more importance than even 
that to us, for it affects the whole as a unit — that is, if the 
gain to you is just equally balanced by the loss to me, then 
there is no advancement in the entire mass, and as you put 
it, what is ignoble in you is injurious to me, and both of us 
are losers.” 

“ That is what makes society such a screaming farce; we 
affect, all of us, that woman shall be absolutely pure — abso- 
lutely woman, absolutely dependent, yet all the time giving, 
while man can be absolutely anything — nothing, and still be 


I 1 

I' 


i 


it 

I 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


257 


respected and looked up to as the lord of creation. The 
facts are every day knocking this dry rot and mildew into 
smithereens, and then the truly good flout their mantles 
about their ears and try to hide the dirt and scandal, 
vainly concealing their utter lack of belief in the doctrine, 
and fearing that somebody will find out that they are no bet- 
ter than the other wicked mortals. Turn the microscope 
away from them by attracting attention to some other weak 
and already exposed and fallen creature.” 

The sun had crept round until its setting rays were now 
throwing lengthened shadows on the floor of the grotto, and 
suggested that they take their departure. The hammock 
had swung empty all day without an occupant. The books 
had been unread. Ashton’s reverie was half untold. He 
j was, in fact, as far from telling his real perplexity to his junior 
partner as he was from making known his troubles to his 
senior. But he had been repaid for all the time he had spent 
in the putting of this grotto in habitable shape. He was liv- 
1 ing in full anticipation of the near future. He felt amply 
paid and congratulated himself upon the progress he had 
made. 

Every to-morrow reflects the thoughts of to-day, and we 
go on, and on, and on, in this ceaseless round until the dark- 
ness of the certain shadows that hide the other inane from 
our view shroud us in thick night and Lethe’s dreamless ooze 
washes our names and faces from the remembrance of men 
and we are laid away among the unremembered throng. 


17 


258 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXXI 


“ You must compare positions at great distances from one another in 
time, before you can tell rightly whither things are tending.” 



HERE is a bitter taste in the mind from over- thought, 
as there is a disagreeable taste in the mouth from 
over-eating, and it was several days before either of 
them mentioned the grotto or the thoughts they had there 
discussed. They slept, fished, read novels, went boating, 
but steered clear of the grotto. 

Ashton had reasoned himself out of the feeling that he 
was either a martyr or a hero in his abnegation, and the reflex 
had carried him as far in the one direction as his former 
thoughts had taken him in the opposite course. 

If he had felt before that he had sacrificed himself or 
was about to do such a thing, he now realized how small that 
sacrifice would have been in comparison to what he was 
about to ask of Julia. 

“ Would he doit? No, never.” He had asked him- 
self this question and made answer without feeling that he 
had done any great deed of unselfish devotion. 

“ Could they be happier than they were by taking any 
steps that would lead to more intimate relations? ” 

When a man talks he is endangering his best interests, 
many times; but when he writes letters he is laying a snare 
for his feet, he is digging a pit wherein to fall. Likewise 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


259 


doth man put himself, his very soul, in jeopardy when he 
fain would draw the sword of argument. Job was all right 
until he allowed himself to engage in argument, and then he 

ini 

found that he was all wrong. And it continues to be so, 

|| even unto this day. But when a man begins to catechise him- 
self he is in more danger than if he should attempt to reason 
J with a woman. Ashton knew the temper of his partner’s 
oil mind too well to presume too much on her ignorance of any 
of subject. She did not feign surprise at any statement that he 
; had made to draw her out. Her interest in the conversa- 
- tion in the grotto arose from quite another source. She was 
glad to know that he so well appreciated the shallow non- 
e sense and hollow pretenses of society. 

The advancing soldier with loaded gun in hand rushes 
er |j headlong into the thickest of the fray. The artilleryman 
busily engaged in manning his gun forgets everything but his 
or: duty, and shrinks not when the advancing enemy has swept 
atll everything before it and rushes madly toward his piece, fixed 
as bayonet in hand ; but place these same men where they have 
nothing to do or engage their minds while the battle rages 
!:• all round, and the bravest would break and fly like wild deer. 
ie What is true of men in arms, is true of men in other walks 
of life, but not so generally understood. 

The question marks that arose in Ashton’s mind at the 
: time of his reverie in the grotto had swept everything before 
J them, and at one time proclaimed the beginning of the re- 
e treat, were now falling back before the marshaled and better 
e trained forces that had shown themselves in his conversation 


260 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 

with his partner. He had turned his own guns upon himself 
with telling effect, and now he was groping in darkness and 
wandering aimlessly about, the unconscious somnambulist, in 
search of a vanished dream. 

When he proposed to make hearts the subject of con- 
versation she bade him speak ; to forget that she was a law- 
yer like himself and remember that she was a woman. She 
had led him into making statements that force conclusions 
upon the mind open to conviction, in a way that was irresis- 
tible. He must needs look for some way out of this; to 
use a lawyer’s technicality, he must “ confess and avoid. ” 
Confess that what he had said was true, but avoid the force 
and effect by new matter. Use the lawyer’s art and make 
the worse appear the better reason. But how? Take refuge 
behind the precedents of the past. Be .a lawyer. What 
does that mean? 

The life of one of England’s greatest lawyers has been 
characterized as “the checkered spectacle of so much glory 
and so much shame,” “at one time far in the van, and at 
another time far in. the rear of his generation.” This is not 
so much the fault of the lawyer as the fault of the civiliza- 
tion that produced him, supported him, encouraged him, 
made him live, thrive and fatten on the spoils of crime, lust, 
hate, greed, wrong, and oppression, that he had to deal 
with. There is no man so conservative as the lawyer, be- 
cause no man is so often forced back into the dark recesses 
of precedent for defense. He supports the barbarism of the 
present by the force and effect of the barbaric past. He 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


261 


1 makes you drink of the present bitter waters of Marah by 
leading you back into the dark rolling waters of the past, and 
bids you listen to what the “successive waves of ascetic 
fanaticism in generations long dead ’’ are saying as they 
ij break on the shores of to-day. Why? Because the inter- 
ests of his client demand it. Commands him. The false 
I pretense, the sham, prudery, vice “ on the ground floor ’’ 
must needs keep the scuttle closed or the equally good “in 
the hole ’’ will be on top. 

He had said that society and the present civilization 
were wrong, and she had agreed with him, but when the 
reflex action sets in, he must fall back on precedent. The 
divisions of burdens were made on the line of the sexes, he 
had said; marriage seemed to have fixed that line, and how 
i was he to disturb it? Marriage had been recognized by Him 
whose “ blessed feet” had trod this earth for our advantage, 
and it would not be with becoming respect to seek to set it 
aside. But, then, every other substantial doctrine of the 
Book had been assailed. But not by respectable people. 
Very respectable people have accepted the modified inter- 
pretations of the creation. Yes, of every other essential 
doctrine that relates to our salvation. Very respectable peo- 
ple have very seriously doubted the story of making the 
world out of nothing, and having vast quantities of raw ma- 
terial left. Very respectable people of to day are now con- 
sidering the rules of evidence by which all these things have 
been proven and accepted, with a view to revise their judg- 
ments. If all this be true, why then be so fearful about lay- 


262 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


ing unholy hands upon this subject that of late years has 
been so ruthlessly handled by courts, and treated by the law 
simply as a contract? If it was wrong, why not change it? 
It suits men as it is. It entails no evil on men, why abrogate 
it? Men are free from it to that extent that it does not 
hang clogs on them. If the burden is on woman, let her 
suffer it; she seems peculiarly adapted to that. 

Ashton looked at these straggling troopers as they fled 
from the field of argument. He concluded that he was not 
at his best, and would abandon the subject until he had more 
relish for thought. But it was not always thus easily that a 
man of Ashton’s make-up escapes his thoughts. 

“ By whose authority are all these opinions thrust upon 
me? Have I really formulated them, social, political, reli- 
gious, or have they been ready-made and handed down to 
me? I am certainly not in accord with this social status; 
but why should I kick against the pricks? Cui bono 

How many men have asked themselves, ‘‘For whose ben- 
efit?” and gone on without stopping to make answer? A 
boy sat stolidly munching bread and cheese; his companion 
cried out, “don’t eat that cheese, its got wrigglers in it.” 
Never a moment did the boy with the cheese heed his cry. 
“Let ’em wriggle, I can stand it as long as they can.” Man 
is the same boy, only a little taller grown. 

How can the modern society “robber-kings and bandit- 
barons, with vassals to match,” go about the world to-day 
and practice what they do, with the words of Him who spake 
as never man spake, staring them in the face? 




VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


263 


“And if any man sue thee at the law and take away thy 
at. let him have thy cloak also.” 

“And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go 
th him twain.” 

Society reverses these words, this teaching, seeing that 
a man gives up his coat, it takes his cloak also, and then goes 
about with canting hypocrisy, whining for sacred forms and 
ceremonies, but the cast-off mantels, of long ago. 

Men prate about liberty and freedom and the tyrant 
turned out, and when the crucial moment comes refuse to 
apply the doctrine to none save such as are in prison and in 
bonds. Wait until these who are ignorant become wise, 
until these slaves are good as slaves — that will be time 
enough to talk about setting them free. 

Ashton was at sea; he felt demoralized. For nothing 
ever does so completely overwhelm a man’s mind as to re- 
alize that on examination his preconceived notions and 
dogmas are vulnerable and untenable. He dismissed the 
subject from his mind and decided not to mention it again. 
If Julia was interested to any great extent she would find a 
way to bring it up. 

They passed the time very pleasantly and profitably as 
well, until September was near at hand. They had received 
several letters from Judge Bullion. One of the date of July 
15th had affected them both very much, it was so weird, so 
strange, so unlike the senior partner, that they dared not 
make it a subject of conversation. As they read it then it 
was a thing full of dark imaginings, grave and gay, solemn 


264 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


and facetious. The last one was dated “ At home, ” August 
28, and was addressed to Ashton alone. The good news 
that he had promised for September first was the unexpected 
again and was just the reverse. The letter was very brief 
and very crisp. The Judge was home prostrated with the 
heat, and thought he would be better if he had them with 
him. There was a shade of sadness about it that bordered 
on the pathetic. The hand-writing was not that of the senior 
partner — it lacked the keen, sharp, crisp way of putting 
things as was his wont. It partook more of the nature of a 
man crushed by some unforeseen dread than prostration from 
heat. 


, 




They decided not to prolong their stay but start at once. 
With them to decide was to act, and the next steamer that 
touched found them on board as passengers bound for home. 
It often happens that we become better acquainted with our 
bosom friends on a long and protracted journey than in years 
of interrupted meetings and partings. 


They had decided to take the water route as far as Mon- 
treal, and from thence by rail. This took some days and 
gave ample time to compare thoughts as to the letter written 
by their senior partner. 

On the second morning out they took up their position 
forward under the awning spread as a protection against the 
sun. Ashton broached the subject by making a casual re- 
mark concerning the letter of J uly 1 5th. J ulia looked agitated 
and said, “ John, I feel that there is something unusual going 
to happen.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


265 


“ Why?’' 

“ Father would never have sent for Fred Bullion to 
eet him so far away from home for anything trivial.’’ 

“ I had thought of that.” 

“ Can you assign any reason for your father’s course?” 
“I can.” 

“ Would you mind telling? ” 

“ Not in the least.” 

“ I would be pleased to hear your reason, for I must 
confess that it has given me no little concern.” 

“ You are aware, I believe, that father has always wanted 
me to say that I would marry Fred.’’ 

“Yes, I have had intimations of that and did in part 
elieve it.’’ 

“ What were your reasons for so believing? ’’ 

“ By putting the condition your father imposed upon me 
along side of his conduct on several occasions.” 

‘‘What condition did he impose on you, and when?” 

“ Never to bestow my affections on any one without his 
consent, as far back as the days when I began my legal 
studies with him.” 

“Then he had his mind on us.” 

“ It looks that way to me.” 

“Why?” 

“Now you have propounded a question which I have 
d myself a great many times and have never been able 
give at least a guess.’’ 

“Then you have thought of this before? ” 


266 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ Yes, and it has always returned to that self-same ques- 
tion, Why ? ’’ 

“No man has ever gone and said to the woman he loved 
just the little speech he had fixed up in his mind when he 
had decided to propose a marriage contract. If Ashton 
could have lived a thousand years with Julia he would have 
seized on this occasion to make his purpose known, for he 
realized that there would never come a time more opportune. ” 
“There is only oneway for us to solve this mystery,” 
said he. 

“What way is that? ” 

“To marry.” 

“ Really?” 

“Really.” 

“ When? ’’ 

“Now.” 

“ How can we? ” 

“You are a lawyer, Julia . v 
‘ ‘ I hold myself out to the world as such.” 

“Then you know that we two persons are the only ones 
privy to the contract.” 

There was a sort of twinkle in her eye as she said. 
“There must be witnesses.” 

u We can have it properly reduced to writing, signed, 
sealed, attested and recorded at any time.’’ 

(i Then, Julia Bullion, I offer myself as your husband.” 
“ I accept you as such and promise to be your wife.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


267 


He placed his hand in her’s and said, “It is done, so 
we both say.” 

She bowed assent. They arose and for a long time in 
silence they walked to and fro across the beam of the 

Their lives passed as before as though nothing had 
lappened. On the 8th of September they found themselves 
once more at home. 


268 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXXII 


“ No place like home.” 



ft 


ND it is a relief to know sometimes that there is not. 


There was no manifestation that the house was occu- 


pied. Julia ran up the front steps and rang the bell. 
By the time Ashton reached her side the door opened softly 
and a servant’s head peeped from behind the heavy oak 
panels. 

“ O it’s you, come in.” 

“Where is father? ” 

A finger was lifted as if to command silence. Ashton 
stepped in and closed the door softly behind him, everything 
was dark. The servant moved noiselessly about the house 
and before speaking tried the parlor door to be sure no one 
was within hearing. 

“ Your father’s in bed.’’ 

“ Why do you keep such a sharp look-out for the par- 
lor door?” 

“ She’s in there?” 

“ Whose is in there?” 

‘‘Why, that woman.” 

“ What woman?’’ 

“ I don’t know.’’ 

“ Did you inquire her name?” 

“ I did, but she refused to give it.” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


269 


“ What reply did she make?” 

“She said, ‘that is no matter, Judge Bullion expects 
me.’” 

“ Old or young?” 

“She is heavily veiled, but I think her hair is white.” 

“White, did you say?’’ That question came from 
Ashton. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Is she tall?” 

“Yes, sir. ” 

“ Dressed in black?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Carrjr a fan and hand satchel?” 

“ Yes, sir.’’ 

“ Gold eye-glasses on her shoulder?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Ashton’s face was white as marble. 

“ Do you know who it is?” asked Julia. 

“No.” 

“You have seen her before?” 

“ Yes, often.” 

“Where?” 

t( In Italy, in Paris, in the Alps.” 

Julia put her hand on Ashton’s arm, looked at the 
servant still waiting, “ Tell father we are here and will be in 
soon.” 

“Is this the cause of father’s prostration?” 

“ I think so.” 


270 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ What does it mean ?” 

“ I can’t tell.” 

“The servant returned. “ Your father says he will see 
the lady in waiting first.” 

Ashton inquired how long she had been in waiting. 
The answer, “just came.” 

“ Been here before?” 

“■ Every day for a week; yes, more than a week.” 

“At regular hours?” 

“ Always at three o’clock.” 

“ Stay long?” 

“ Sometimes as late as six.’’ 

“ How is the Judge?” asked Ashton. 

“Always worse after she has been here.’’ 

“ I did not ask you for that.” 

“ Well, he’s very feeble.’’ 

“ Has she gone in to see him?” asked Julia. 

“She has.” 

She turned and addressed Ashton, “ I’ll meet you in 
the drawing-room in half an hour. ” They both retired. At 
four, they were both in the drawing-room. After a few 
minutes’ consultation, they called the servant they had pre- 
viously interviewed. She came. 

Ashton directed her to a seat. “ Has the Judge given 
any directions as to this lady?” 

“ Yes, sir, he has; he told me to answer all calls at the 
front door, and not allow any one to see her.” 

a Anything besides that?” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


271 


“Yes, sir.” 

“ What is it?” 

“ Not to interrupt him while she was with him, or 
allow any one to come in while she was here.” 

“Anything further?” 

The servant hesitated, looked at Julia, and asked: 
“Must I tell?” 

“ Everything,” said Julia. 

“ Everything?” 

“Yes, everything.” 

“ Then you don’t know — >r 

“ How could we,” said Ashton, “not being here?’’ 

“ Well, your father had two letters that seemed to dis- 

I tress him awfully.” 

“Awfully!” said Julia. 

“Yes, awfully, Mam,” 

“ How do you know that?” 

“ How do I know that?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Why, wasn’t I there?” 

“ Where?” 

“At the breakfast table.” 

“ What happened at the breakfast table?’’ 

“ I brought the first letter to him at the breakfast table, 
and when he opened and read it, he fell over in a fit, and has 
not been out of bed since. Isn’t that awful enough for 
j you?’’ said the servant, somewhat uneasily. 

“ Where is that letter ?” 


272 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“ He held it in his hand, and has it now with the other 
letters.” 

“ What other letters?” 

“ Your father gave me the key to his desk, and told me 
how to find a secret drawer, as he called it, and how to 
open it.” 

“ Did you find the secret drawer and open it?” 

“ I did.” 

“ What did you find ?” 

“A large morocco pocket book which he said was in 
there.” 

“ What did you do with the pocket-book?” 

“ Why, I gave it to him, of course.” 

“ Do you know what was in the pocket'-book ?” 

‘‘ It had letters ; he took them out and spread them on 
the bed before him.” 

“ Was you there when he did that?” 

“ I was, he told me to stay.” 

“ Did he give any reason for your staying?” 

“ He did, he said, if any thing should happen to him 
before you and Mr. Ashton came, I was to give the letters 
to Mr. Ashton. After that he took all the letters together 
with the last one he got and put them in the book and placed 
it under his pillow.” 

“ Did you say that he had received another letter since 
that?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ When was that?” 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


273 


4 ‘ Just before the lady began coming here.” 

“ Has he written any letters since he has been in bed?’" 
‘ ‘ Yes, sir, two.” 

“ No more?” 

“ No more, one to you and one to this lady.” 

“ Do you know her name?” 

“ No, Mam. 

“ How did you know that it was for her then if you do 
I not know her name?” 

‘‘ A boy came for the letter.” 

“ Well, what of that?” 

V Well, your father told me that a lady would call and 
that I should admit her.” 

“ Did she come?” 

“She did, and this is the lady.” 

il How do you know that this is the lady to whom my 
ij ather wrote the letter, not having known to whom the letter 
|vas addressed?” 

“You see, Mam, it was this way, I asked your father 

I mow I would know who to admit, he said she was a tall lady, 
stressed in black, with white hair, and wears a veil. When 
r I his lady came I told her I had orders not to let any one in 

I I o see the Judge, and she said, ‘ I have received a letter from 
iiim to-day and have an appointment,’ that’s how I know, 

i nd I then let her in.” 

•‘I see,” said Ashton, “your curiosity got the better 
f your breeding. ” 

“ Well, couldn’t there be more than one woman an* 


274 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


swering to that description, I didn’t want any harm to come 
to the Judge.” 

“ Your conduct does credit to your heart at least,” said 
Julia, noticing the embarrassment of the servant. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


275 



CHAPTER XXXIII 


“ Before we are alarmed we see correctly; when we are alarmed we see 
double; and when we have been alarmed we see nothing but trouble.” 


HEN Ashton had seen this woman in Paris, in the 
Alps, in Italy, he had seen her as a tall woman, with 
white hair, a face of exquisite mould, pale as dea‘h, 
a far-away look in her hungry eyes, he saw her then as a 
woman only. Now there was something in the visit and ac- 
tions that alarmed him and he saw her in an entirely different 
light, he called up all his past recollections of his seeing her 
in Paris, of the many times he had thought of himself in re- 
lation to her, what was she to him, in fact he saw her in 
two different relations. 

Time moved slowly on until six o’clock had arrived, 
there were no indications of activity or life in the bed room 
of the Judge; the door was still closed. Ashton and Julia 
held another consultation, they decided to interrupt the inter- 
view and caused an alarm to be made at the door. There 
was no response. Ashton then resolved to enter. He 
opened the door. 

The Judge was half reclining, half sitting in bed, propped 
up with pillows, He was resting slightly on his right side, 
his left hand by his side holding the morocco pocket-book. 
The lady in black was sitting by his right side, her right hand 
was clasped in his, her face buried in the pillows, her cheek 


276 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


pressed against that of the Judge, her left arm was thrown 
over his head, the fingers lying lightly on his left cheek. 

Judge Bullion’s mouth was slightly open, his eyes closed 
as if in sleep, his face was ghastly pale. Ashton approached 
the bed on the side opposite the lady in black, he touched 
the Judge on the shoulder, there was no response, no indi- 
cation of consciousness. He called his name, no answer, 
he took his wrist, no pulse, he put his hand on the Judge’s 
neck, no indication of life, he explored the region of the 
heart. 

Julia had entered and now stood behind the mysterious 
figure in black, she lifted the long, black veil, she touched 
her slightly, no indications that the woman was conscious of 
her presence. 

They were both thoroughly alarmed now and saw 
nothing but trouble. What next? They stood in mute 
amazement, awe-struck, dumb. 

The two forms were motionless, unconscious, dead ! 

The small hand satchel was in the woman’s lap, half 
open, a delicately embroidered handkerchief covered the 
contents. Julia took up the satchel, walked round to where 
Ashton stood. He lifted the handkerchief, his eyes caught 
the initials, “ E.” “A.” 

Julia then handed him a letter addressed, “ Ethel Ash- 
ton, No. 9 University Place, City.” “Ashton,” said he, 
aloud. They looked at each other, neither spoke. He 
dropped both letter and handkerchief in the satchel and took 
the pocket-book from the hand of his dead partner. He 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


277 


n opened it, here were the two letters lately received by him. 

^Another package folded and filed according to the Judge’s 
^ habit, marked with date of receipt, and the single name writ- 
d ‘ten at the top, “ Ethel.” 

These were tied with a blue ribbon, there were three in 
'•inumber. In the bottom of the package was a light roll, 
r i carefully wrapped in tissue paper. Ashton handed it to 
:s Julia. She unfolded it, as the paper was removed a long, 
ie black tress of hair appeared, a slight shudder ran through 
ner frame and she let the entire package fall to the floor. 
usii Bhe sank into the nearest chair and covered her face with her 
aands. Her woman’s mind and heart saw everything now. 

“ O John, I comprehend it all now. O the perfidy of 
i man’s nature. Wicked, wicked, wicked, above all things, 
v ind desperately wicked, yes that is holy writ.” 

]te ' ‘‘The letters,’’ said Ashton. 

“ Yes, the letters, let’s have them though they kill me 
is he has my dear mother.” 

^ With a voice stifled with emotion, Ashton began: 

the 1 1 

“ Paris, May, 18 — . 

“ My dear : I am so lonely to-day. I saw our dear boy this morn- 
ng on the Champs Elysees with his tutor. He has grown so tall since I 
ast saw him. How much he looks like his father! I shall always know 


sh- 

hep 

He 

)ok 

He 


urn, wherever and whenever I see him. 

“ I wanted so much to speak to him. I can scarcely resist rushing 
oward him when I see him, and holding him in my arms. If it was just 
| or a moment, it would do this poor, aching, bleeding heart so much good. 

“Then I think of what you say, that it would ruin your prospects for 
ife, defeat your re-nomination, bring reproach upon your daughter, and 
j ast a cloud over his young life. You will forgive me for the thought, my 
I .ear. 


278 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“Yes, that might be the effect of it. It might have something to do 
with your election, might bring reproach upon your daughter. But how 
can it cast any cloud over his young life to know that he has a mother? 
You never think of poor me, now; it is only you, she, him. O forgive me 
for saying these cruel, harsh, wicked things. I know it is not you, no, no, 
not you; not your heart, not your head, but society. 

“ I think sometimes — but I must not think — it drives me mad. I can 
not see why I should suffer so, so long, so cruel! O will it never end? Willi 
never be permitted to see my boy, to hold him to my heart, to hear him 
say, ‘ Mother,’ once? It seems such a trivial thing to you, but then you 
can’t put yourself in a mother’s place. 

“Next Monday is dear John’s birthday. Think of it; ten years old, 
and never have I heard his voice since the day he was six months old, I 
have tried to be near enough to him to hear him speak or laugh. I would 
go to the school, but then I would be acting against your wishes; no, not 
your wishes, but the wishes society frightens you with. How you have 
changed since the days — I mean the nights — when I felt your strong arms 
about me. How brave you looked then! How defiant your eye when you 
said, ‘society was not your master, you was nobody’s slave, you did not 
fear its beck and nod.’ I believed you then, I trusted you then, I thought 
your love could tide you over all things. How I am deceived, mocked, 
jeered, scoffed at, and scorned, and derided, and ridiculed. No, you were 
mistaken then. Society is your master, you are its slave. You said society 
was no better than you. I granted that then, and I have felt since then 
that you are no better than society. You said you were above customs and 
laws, that against love there was no law. No, but there is fear , though, 
and that is law with you now. 

“ ‘ Not yet,’ ‘ not yet,’ so far off. It seems so far in the future. It 
dies away on the wings of the thick night. Will it ever be? O my dear, 
tell me, for heaven’s sake tell me again for fear that I go mad. Will it ever 
be? Don’t chide me, don’t scold me, don’t put me off in silence, but tell 
me, will it ever be? 

“ Until then, ever your own, 

“ Ethel.” 

“ Paris. 

“ My Dear: I have your letter of June 13th. It seems so little, so 
poor, to say I thank you. 

“ Words can not tell it. They are too weak-winged to bear my feelings 
to you. You are elected now. You could afford to snap your fingers at all 
the prudery of your nasty-nice friends, your wicked enemies. But you won’t. 
Your heart is full of kindness, of love; your head so cruel, so full of fear. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


279 


SO v 


“You say they would sneer at you, ‘Judge Bullion married a former 
aramour. ’ Yes, a paramour, but the mother of your son. Think of that, 
e is entitled to your protection, to your name. You say, ‘Julia is now a 
irl of thirteen, and so proud of her father. She, too, would despise me.’ 
ou mean the ‘ me ’ for me. Well, the day will come when the me will be 
you. Then there will be a son also to despise his father for casting off his 
mother. 

“ How much easier it would be for you, for me, for both of them, that 
you make this, which you admit, honorable amend now when there is some 
good reason for the amend, than to delay it until they will despise you for 
your cowardice as well as your life? Oh, it makes me blush to think of it, 
your life of sin and shame. 

“ But I suppose I must go on suffering forever. I see no alternative. 
I hoped that when you were re-elected that you would redeem your promise 
to me, but I see now that you are as afraid of customs and society as ever, 
and like everything else, the longer it is delayed the more infirm you become 
in your purpose. 

“ I am so happy to know that he is to stay here for at least another 
year. I know there is force in the argument that he is liable to become so 
much of a Frenchman in manners, tastes and habits that he never will take 
to the home ways. Well, there are some home ways of his father that I hope 
he never will take to very kindly. 

“ If you would only consent to let me tell him that I am his mother, 
that you are his father. Let me teach him to love you and respect you — 
pardon me, I have said I would never mention this to you again. 

“ I was near him last night when Bernhardt gave an exhibition of her 
power and strength in Camille. He rose with clenched fist when the father, 
Mons. Duval, came in to speak to Camille of his son. Oh, it made my poor 
heart ache to look at him, to see his tears for that poor woman. Did he but 
know that the woman whose longing eyes were ever turned toward him was 
his mother, that her hair is white for grief, unrequited love — to tell him but 
that, what would he say of his father — I mean of the society — that has thus 
so cruelly killed her joy, her happiness, her life. 

“ Oh, Camille, Camille, Camille, the which I am, I am, I am. 

Your own, 

“ Ethel.” 

“ Paris. 

“My Dear: Another year is here. I know that he must leave me 
now. I saw him but yesterday on the Champs Elysees. It was so hard to 
think of, to endure, to be separated. You will forgive me— yes I know you 


280 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


will. I caught his hand, I kissed his brow. Some time when you find that 
you are nearing that other shore, when your boat is dashing to pieces on the 
rocky coast of your stormy life, call him, tell him you are his father, and that 
one day on the streets of Paris his mother kissed him. 

“ Tell him that that father who drove his son from the side of the woman 
he loved because he was no better than she is yourself, his father, that his 
mother is poor, poor, poor Camille. But break my heart for I must hold 
my tongue. 

“ You say that you will provide for me, that you will keep me informed 
on all matters concerning him. Yes, you will do everything but let me own 
him, love him, be his mother, your wife. Yes, you will feed me through 
the bars that society has builded between us. You said they were mere fic- 
tions, that they did not exist in fact. Yes, fictions indeed! They are the j 
fictions that are stranger and stronger than truth — stronger than iron bars. 

If I had been guilty of theft, of larceny, of homicide, of manslaughter, yea, 
of murder even, there might be some hope of release, of looking again into 
the faces of loved ones, but these fictions keep me forever from the cooling 
waters though I am steeped in them to the lips. 

“ I hope no longer — I wait. I wish I could feel the faith that inspired 
the lines: 

“ ‘ What matter if I stand alone? 

I wait with joy the coming years. 

My heart shall reap where it has sown 
And garner up its fruit of tears.’ 

“ I weary you, I know, but if I did not sometimes pour out my over- 
full heart I would be mad. I would tell the story of my ruined life, and I 
know you would rather I moan to you than have the world know of it. 

“ But will I never see you? Why can’t I come home? Oh, tell me 
this. I’ll not bother you. I’ll not go near him, but let me be in the land 
where you both do live. 

“ I will hang on each minute until I hear you say the word, as the 
drowning man hangs and clings to the straw. Come home. Will it be come 
home on this earth? How gladly, if the Master would only say come home, 
Magdalen, come home. Ob, why can’t these legal fictions sometimes give 
place to His blessed words? Why can’t the world say to these storms of 
wrath that ever break and beat up against this misguided life, ‘ Peace, be 
still?’ Why can’t these bitter waters of Marah be changed into Cana’s 
wine? 

“Oh, the two bleeding hands that once did press the grapes of Eschol 
come again to this earth, say again to the blood-thirsty, to the vindictive, 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


281 


lt the unmerciful, the wicked, ‘ He that is without sin among you, let him 
e first cast a stone at her.’ 

“ But enough. 

“ I am 

“ ‘ The shadow of your life that once was your secret joy.’ 
is “ Ethel.” 

Ashton laid these letters down with a heavier heart than 
he had ever known before. He took up the one postmarked 

August 30 and read. It ran as follows: 

h 

“My Dear Russell: I have decided that the time has come. You 
will never name the day. You will never admit me to your household, 

“ I shall call on you at your home on Thursday at three P. M. 

3) “ Ethel Ashton.” 

And here is the reply: 

“ Wednesday, 

“ Ethel Dear: I have your letter of yesterday, and if I ever allowed 
j myself to be surprised at anything, it would be at this unreasonable demand. 
Unreasonable I say for many reasons. You know that I have done every- 
thing to avoid scandal— to avoid disgracing you, John, my daughter and 
myself. 

“ I know that it is something to be deprived of the love and comfort of 
your son, but you forget that as it is you alone suffer, but that if at this time 
you were to become known not only you, but him, my daughter and myself 
would be made to feel this deep and lasting disgrace. 

“ As it is, they are happy. I have kept them in ignorance of their re- 
lations. I intend telling them before I die, for fear of some unforeseen acci- 
dent. I have some of your letters that he will recognize as being applied to 
1 himself — sufficient proof of the fact that he is your son. 

“You plague and torment me with words and vows and statements 
e made you more than a third of a century ago, when we were both in the hot 

e blood of our youth, so to speak. Can’t you reflect that when the blood is 

hot the soul is prodigal in lending to the tongue vows? 
e “ You seem to think it no small thing that I have changed my views as 

[ to ‘ legal fictions.’ Words seem to stick to your mind as though you were 

e a lawyer devoted to fictions. 

“ You seem never to tire ranting about society. What has society to 

do with us? You say yours was a misguided life. True. But that is no 

! affair of society’s now. Society knows nothing of it and it would be worse 

than folly to mention it at this late date. 


282 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“You insist upon a marriage now to cure defects of thirty-three years 
ago. You charge me with bad faith because I refuse. You say I 
vowed that I would. I admit that I did say that if it could be done on your 
return from Europe without the little episode of so long ago coming to the 
surface, I saw no reason why we could not, but the more I thought of him, 
of my daughter, of myself, the more I saw the ruin of such a course to all 
of us. 

“ You say that it will some time needs must be known to both of them 
to avoid the dread of my life. True, and I hope to tell them in time to 
avoid their marriage. They are now so happy in their love that to intrude 
this knowledge upon them would almost amount to a crime. 

“ I have managed to keep them in ignorance of their relation, and 
from such a fatal step, until they have arrived at that period in their lives 
that they will not feel the loss so keenly as in their younger days. I feel my- 
self competent to manage this matter without any entangling alliances of mar- 
riage on my part. That would only have a tendency to drag our past into 
bold perspective. 

“ Calm yourself, Ethel dear, and let us rest content to see our passions 
die, that others may not be disgraced. 

“R. B.” 

I 

“Is it possible.” said Julia, “that father could write 
such a brutal letter as that to a woman that he had ever 
loved?” 

Even with that father before him cold in death, Ashton 
hoped that the woman had administered a fitting rebuke, 
and he was anxious to know what she said. 

“ Here is her reply.” 

4 ‘ Go on.” 

“ Saturday. 

“O Noble Judge! It is ever thus a second Daniel comes to judg- 
ment. Is this your real self? Has it been a mask that you have worn for 
w thirty-five years ? 

“ If I was to believe that it would kill me, it will kill me. 

“If you ever allowed yourself to be surprised! Then it has come to 
this, your love would be surprised if you would only allow it. O the cruel, 
cold, calculating man won’t even allow himself to be surprised. Yes, I see. 
What you have done, you have done not because you loved me, not because 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


283 


you loved our dear son, but because you dreaded ‘ Scandal! ’ You feared 
that the mother might be an unwelcome guest at your door, and embarrass* 
ing withal, if she had the proof of your guilt at her side. 

“The upright judge could frown down a lone woman, single-handed 
and helpless, if she stood alone. O I see it all now. Yes. It takes the 
tears, and groans, and heart-aches of thirty-three years crystalized into a 
single lense before a woman has sufficient aid to her vision to see that the 
man she loves only means to protect himself and avoid ‘ Scandal! ’ 

“ ‘ But you forget that, as it is, you alone suffer.’ Yes, I had forgotten 
that, truly I had. No, no, that is not the fact; I never knew until this 
heartless letter informed me that I was alone the sufferer. 

“O, my head, my heart, how the agony of thirty-five years rolls back 
and mangles and crushes, and tortures me. Yet it is well that I did not 
know it all, all these long, long years. 

“ It would be a deep and lasting disgrace if I were to be known! O 
how kind you are! How generous your love! Yes, I see again that the 
law is at work. It would be a disgrace if it were known. Crime and dis- 
grace are only so when known. What a comfortable doctrine! A criminal 
is not a criminal until once apprehended, arrested, convicted. To be found 
out, is to be guilty. To deceive a woman, break her heart, take away her 
peace of mind, kidnap her child, torture her for thirty-three years, is no 
disgrace to a man. The law — society — holds him guiltless so long as he 
is able to frown it down. O the jocose satire of living, and loving such a 
man! 

“ You say I ‘plague and torment ’ you. Plague and torment are legal 
fictions. Your hot blood that caused your soul to be so prodigal in lending 
vows to your tongue has cooled off now, and the lent vows have all been 
returned. Yes, with men vows are but conveniences; the tongue can bor- 
row from the soul when the blood is hot, straightway to be returned again 
when the blood is cool. 

“ That is the personification of cold blood, that truly is Man. 

“ No small thing that you have changed your views of legal fictions. I 
have changed my mind now. I see that it is a very small thing for you to 
do. It is not I, the lawyer. No, I am devoted to fictions in a way entirely dif- 
ferent from the devotion with which lawyers esteem them. 

“ Lawyers trample under foot to-day the fictions they contended for 
yesterday. At the sound of the jingling guineas, they shout, ‘ Long live 
the king,’ yesterday; put a retainer in the other hand, and to-morrow they 
vociferate louder than yesterday, ‘ Down with the monarchy, up with the 
people.’ 


284 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


“But the lawyers are not the cause, they are but the fruit of customs 
and precedents. They are but the means that the world possesses for meas- 
uring society’s capacity for specific heat. They blubber over before the 
boiling point is reached; they congeal before the mercury falls to zero, not 
because they possess superior virtues or are degraded by excessive vices, 
but because they stand for and represent that lack of difference, that infin- 
tesimal space between the best and the worst of mankind. 

“I blame not you, I think better of you than you give me credit for. I 
trusted you then, I trust you now. You was yourself once, now you are 
society’s measurement for specific heat capacity. You stand for society, 
that is the custom, that is the law, that is the Common Law, that is the 
Levitical Law 

“ ‘And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman.’ Yes, 
even they let the man go. ‘ Now Moses in the law,’ mark you, ‘ in the law 
commanded us that such should be stoned.’ 

“ More than eighteen hundred years have rolled over the hand-writing 
on the sand and obliterated it all. The scribes and Pharisees have become 
the scoffing by-word of scorn and reproach among all nations, yet ‘ the law’ 
outweighs the ‘ neither do I condemn thee,’ of the Master. 

“Never tire ranting about society. What has society to do with you 
or me? My misguided life is no affair of society’s now! Then your par- 
oxysms of grief were passions that a man might play. Then your white 
hairs, your long agony, and fear, and dread, were caused by air-drawn dag- 
gers — things but to frighten children with in the dark ! Then the forever 
‘ wait,’ ‘ not yet ’ that you have imposed upon me was no affair that society 
controlled? No, it was abnegation on your part. No, it did pot even amount 
to self-denial to you. I remember now your exact words, ‘ you alone 
suffer.’ 

“ Your next paragraph is a startling statement for a lawyer — a judge 
— to make on the heels of that other: that society has nothing to do with 
us. If it has not, pray tell me then from whence will come * the ruin of such 
a course to all of us?’ How lame the excuse of your noble mind when your 
conscience tells you that you are simply hiding behind subterfuge. 

“ The imparting to them the knowledge of their relation ‘ would 
almost amount to a crime.’ How long since has your conscience become so 
tender in the contemplation of crime? 

“The ‘ bold perspective’ of the past is your ghost that ever confronts 
you and will never down, the perturbed spirit that will not let you rest. 

“ The last sentence would apply equally well to the mind that suggested 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 285 

it. Be calm, be calm, when disgrace comes, for our passions will never die 
while we live. 

“ Yours in disgrace, “ Ethel.” 

Ashton threw open the shutters and drew aside the cur- 
tains. He walked to the center of the room. His fingers 
were interlaced, arms extended, palms downward. The 
question marks of his life were all swept away, he moved 
toward the dead woman. He understood everything now. 

Julia had thrown herself on the floor beside her father 
and buried her face in her hands. For the first time in their 
lives their feelings and emotions sprung from widely different 
sources. He did not ask her to assist him, he divined the 
shock to her sensitive soul. 

He approached the dead body of the woman, lifted the 
left arm from off the pillow, let it rest by the side. Took 
her hand from that of the Judge. Raised her lifeless head 
with his right hand, with his left he placed both her hands in 
her lap and then changing his position to her right side, put 
his left arm round her neck and shoulders, and drew her to him, 
her form resting against his strong shoulder, he picked her 
up as a mother would her sleeping babe, turned half round 
and laid her on the bed beside Judge Bullion. 

As she lay there reposed in death, there was an expres- 
sion of grief on her countenance, every feature told how she 
had suffered. 

Her white hair and black bonnet formed a striking con- 
trast to her pallid face, her eyes and lips half open, her long 
lashes, yet black, gave the face a look of beauty and expres- 
sion that not even death with all its terrors could drive away. 


286 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Ashton smoothed down the folds of her heavy black 
dress, her veil slightly covering the side of her face next 
that of the Judge. He folded her hands on her bosom. Her 
right hand in death seemed to rest very near that lifeless 
heart, fretted with fires of grief, pain, danger, obloquy, unre- 
quited longing and sorrow, buttressed with shame and con- 
tumely. 

He assisted Julia to rise, they stood at the feet of the 
dead, motionless, mute, dumb. 

The gentle ripple that for the moment had only dis- 
turbed the busy life of J udge Bullion in the morning of his man- 
hood had been lashed into fury, hurricane, whirlwind, cy- 
clone in the evening of his days, until now, the crested waves, 
white with foam and delirium, broke in mad, wild, fury and 
grief, upon rocky and merciless shores, and the little boat 
freighted with the two hearts was dashed to pieces, and two 
lives had gone out. 

Ashton looked into her face, she drew close to him, 
brother, sister, wife, husband! O that agony. From the 
depths of his soul he cried “Father, Father, Father. O my 
Mother, Mother, Mother.” 

O death, thou great reconciler. Thy terrors drive away 
all our severity and rouse all our tenderness. On the glimmer- 
ing outlash of the murderous thought may be seen the back- 
ward gleam of repentance. 

The veil had been lifted, the strong light at first had 
smitten him with blindness, he recovered now. His suffer- 
ings paled in pitiless gloom when compared with the agony 
of that mother’s life. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


287 


“ My children,’’ how these words had affected him when 
on the day of their admittance they fell from the lips of 
Judge Bullion. 

His father, his mother, his sister. He turned and looked 
into the living face of his only relative, it was ghastly pale. 
The conflicting emotions of her heart were painfully visible 
in the gleam of her eyes. Her mother’s wrong rose before 
her, her mother’s ghost stood by the side of her father with 
outstretched hand. 

Her feelings were as much in sorrow as in anger, but for 
the love she bore her husband-brother she would have given 
utterance to that fierce and bitter denunciation that rose in 
her heart. As she looked upon these dead faces the thought 
of pity drove out pity and they were linked by indissoluble 
chains. i( Villain , Villain , Villain. • Paramour, Paramour , 
Paramour /” 

O Why fore ? Wherefore doth this lack of marriage heap 
up misery? Then that wail of grief too crushing for earth 
rang out in Heaven, louder than booming cannon at be- 
leaguered gates, fiercer than lightning’s glare athwart the sky, 
it flashed through the long deep corridors of Heaven’s 
chancery, and rolled on through the depths of infinite pity. 
Whyfore, Wherefore? 

In the gathering gloom of the coming night, and shame, 
Ashton peered into the faces of the dead and murmured, 
“ For Jerusalem is ruined, and Judah is fallen, because their 
tongue and their doings are against the Lord, to provoke the 
eyes of His glory.” 


288 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.” 



O thought Ashton as he searched for Judge’s Bullion’s 


last will among the files of his private papers. He 
^ found nothing that indicated any wish that his father 
might have entertained as to the distribution of his estate. 
The Judge had been too much perplexed in his life to think 
of his death. So tired was he of his miserable existence 
that he was willing that death should be the be all and end | 


all. 


In his search, Ashton came upon a manuscript that evi- 


dently had been written by Judge Bullion shortly after his 
marriage. From notes, data and references the manuscript 
was designed as an introduction to a book in which he 
intended to attack the marriage relation as an effete system 
of the past. It was entitled “Victims of Marriage.” 

The thoughtful reader will at once see that the writer of 
the foregoing pages has only attempted to piece out what he 
conceives Judge Bullion would have written in support of the 
doctrine of his paper. 

No better evidence of a man’s daily life can be wished 
than the thoughts he entertains in the secret chambers of his 
brain. In proof of this it is proposed to offer the unfinished 
manuscript as a fitting sequel to Judge Bullion’s life. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


289 ’ 


THE MANUSCRIPT. 

“ I never was attached to that great sect 
Whose doctrine is that each one should select 
Out of the crowd a mistress or a friend, 

And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend 
To cold oblivion ; though it is in the code 
Of modern morals, and the beaten road 
Which these poor slaves with weary foot-steps tread 
Who travel to their home among the dead 
By the broad highway of the world, and so 
With one chained friend, perhaps a jealous foe 
The dreariest and longest journey go.” 

“ Whether the germ was created for the purpose of pro- 
ducing a perfect flower, or the perfect flower was painted in 
all its glory and loveliness for the purpose of re producing 
a perfect germ, is only known to him who fashioned them. 
Whether life was breathed into the human clay that love 
might have a place to dwell, or love suggested life, we are 
equally in doubt. 

“We make careful selections of perfect germs that we 
may have faultless flowers, but we pay little or no attention 
to the re-production and continued existence of human life, 
and we seem to care less for the close relation that ought to 
exist between life and love. 

u A great deal has been said and written about life in 
the abstract, as, ‘A mighty River,’ ‘A Stage,’ ‘A Race 
Course,’ it has furnished a theme for poetry and song. But 
the argus-eyed nineteenth century has covered all this 
allegory, and poetry and song with question marks, and on 
every page of the past has written investigation — and de- 
mands for the future, facts, facts, facts. 

19 


290 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


Investigation is peering into the opening eyes of every 
kindling bud of every cradle and asking, “Whither?’’ Is 
this the result of love or accident? Have the parties who 
are responsible for the existence of this new-born life the 
power and means to make its journey one of light, and joy, 
and loveliness, or will it be abandoned to tread alone the 
trackless sands of life’s bleak and cheerless desert where no 
flowers of comfort ever bloom? 

The world is filled with caricatures of human life, that 
where not conceived in love, were not prompted by a yearn- 
ing for an existence by the producing causes, and the result 
is both a blighting and a biting curse. 

The seed has produced its thorny and thankless fruit, 
the ripened bitterness of which is more galling than ingrati- 
tude, sharper than a serpent’s tooth, a living, walking allegory 
of self-rebuke and self-reproach. Accident, mistake, thought- 
lessness, willful and malicious gratification of passion, re- 
gardless of consequences. Darkness, not light ; misery, not 
happiness; sorrow, not song; shame, not honor; grief, not 
joy; dispair, not hope. 

The blear-eyed and blundering past has been howling 
itself hoarse about how to get sorrow and suffering, sin, 
disease, filth and poverty out of the world. The keen-eyed, 
practical present is busying itself over the more important 
question, how to prevent their coming into the world. 

The frenzied fanaticism of asinine anarchy has been fish- 
ing in the troubled sea of debate and agitation and when it 
breaks open the vase it has dragged from these stormy deeps 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


291 


y it will unloose the giant thought, which, like the demon 
5 loosed from the vase by the fisherman in the Arabian Nights, 

0 it will turn and destroy its deliverers. The thin subterfuges 
e that now set labor and capital at war with each other will be 

swept away. The causes of poverty, filth, disease, rags, 
e rage, riot and revenge must be sought elsewhere. That con- 
•o dition is not a whim, a fancy. That the dust and ashes of 
accident, mistake, ignorance, thoughtlessness and a willful 
and malicious disregard for natural laws can never produce 
good results, no matter though they be watered with the 
t blood of millions of unfortunate defenders and advocates. 

The vaunted boast that the race is “ free for all” in this 
land of liberty, push and progress, is gush and rot. Is fiction, 
and not fact. You may as well argue that the skunk could 
T be attar of roses, night-blooming cereus; that the dog-fennel 
could be a daisy, the toad-stool a king’s tiara, a poodle a 
grey-hound, a donkey a thoroughbred, the leopard a rhinoc- 

1 eros, the camelopard an elephant, an Ethiopian as white as 
t marble, as that the child born in the tenement house can sur- 
round itself with flowers, light, love and joy, that its start is 

, T equal with the child possessed of all the advantages of parent- 
i, age, progress, education, health, hope and home. 

I, Life is a fact. Civilization and government are but fleet- 

it i ing shadows — broken fragments of the many colors of the 
j human kaleidoscope, ever shifting and never repeating them- 
selves. Alluring us on by deceptive similarities and flattering 
t us that to-morrow will be happy because to-day was not, as 


292 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


though good days were the results of chance and not the very 
life-blood of all that is precious and best in the world. 

Causes will produce effects, seeds will bear fruits, and 
time will smite with its blighting curse what was once the sov- 
ereign sanctuary, and earth will tremble with the crash of 
doom and change will set at naught the solemn invocation of i 
Him who spake as never man spake, because His words have 
been set at naught and truth stripped of its power. 

What God hath joined together let no man put asunder. 
No, and no man ever will. But then God never had any 
hand in the misfits of modern society. God never put the 
seal of his approval upon partnerships for the multiplication 
of criminals, crime and misery, upon the blear-eyed accidents 
that walk in countless numbers, or are carried on the tired 
arms and shrunken bosoms of hopeless and despairing 
mothers. God never sanctioned any contract that had for 
its chief end and aim, by one of the contracting parties, the 
control of the other for the gratification of lust and passion; 
never looked with approval upon the hideous malformation 
of uncontrolled passion, and the loathing detestation of help- 
less and despairing submission. He has no pleasure in idiocy, 
insanity, scrofula, consumption and all the other ills that flesh 
is heir to. No, no, let us still believe that God is good. 
That He delights in the union of two souls and two hearts as 
long as the one is the counterpart of the other. But let us 
not lay the flattering unction to our souls that the second 
person of the trinity ever placed the seal of His approval upon 
an unequal and an unwise union. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


293 


I Like is attracted to like with unerring instinct, but it is 
absurd to say that the first mistaken impulse of a misguided 
and undiciplined heart shall bind and control a life that is to 
be broadened with years and be enriched with culture and 
experience. It is outrage infinite to make the mistakes of an 
unwise union the only inheritance of the offspring. 

The ultimatum of all union of the sexes, be it from the 
brainless oyster to the highest type of man and womanhood, 
is reproduction. The higher the type of civilization, the 
j more absolute the demand for perfection in the producers. 

The production of the perfect in the physical, moral, intel- 
1 lectual and social demands a perfect union of the producers. 
And perfect union comprehends perfection in every particular 
in which we seek perfection in the produced. It would seem 
1 almost idle to assert what at first blush appears to be a truism, 
to-wit: That without intention on the part of the actor no 
I great good or evil had been done, if it was not for the fact 
j that so many of the human race were accidents, unintended, 

; unwanted, uncalled for, unwelcome, unprepared for, and 

I unprepared to successfully buffet the angry waves of life’s 
turbulent and stormy ocean. 

It is palpably true that the man who in his early life, be- 
fore laying a foundation for a competency, is so unfortunate 
, as to have a large family is rarely successful in any other 
| enterprise. 

In every State and Territory in this broad land where 
marriage is recognized and protected by law there are statu- 
tory provisions aimed to save the State or municipality from 


294 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


the burden of caring for and supporting a certain class of 
children known to the common law as bastards. These 
statutes are so framed that if the mother or some one in her 
behalf does not prosecute the putative father and compel 
him to support the child, the commonwealth is authorized to 
commence proceedings and save the State or municipality 
from the expense of such child’s care and support. Strange 
as it may seem, no one has yet ever been found who has had 
the hardihood to attack the wisdom and justice of such a 
wholesome regulation. And stranger still than all that, no one 
has ever had the hardihood to even suggest that the whole- 
some provision that is thrown round the illegitimate shall 
not extend to the more fortunate (?) one society has been 
pleased to style the legitimate. The answer is ready in the 
mind of the reader, and in ordinary parlance is about this: 
There is no necessity for such regulation, for the reason 
that the law of parental love and affection for the offspring 
born in lawful wedlock is a better safeguard for the child 
than any statute. Who would not be glad to accept the 
answer, and who would not have faith in its truth, if it was 
not for the fact that countless thousands of helpless, starving, 
unprotected, unclothed, unfed and unhoused legitimate waifs 
were holding up their naked and starving bodies and implor- 
ing a charitable State for that protection and care which has 
been denied or could not be furnished by legitimate and af- 
fectionate parents? 

If there is wisdom in compelling the man — who is barred 
by statute and the unwritten law of society — to provide for 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


295 


his occasional offspring inflicted upon the State, much.more 
then is there wisdom in compelling, by statute, the man who 
is authorized by law and society, to burden the State to any 
extent his unbridled passion and lust may demand, to care 
for and protect and support his legitimate issue. 

The unwritten law of the land — that is, the law of society 
— as well as the statutes of the several States, deny a woman 
the right to become the mother of children except she con- 
form to certain rules and regulations, the most absurd and 
unreasonable. Unless she contracts to love and obey one 
man as long as they both do live. By the terms of which 
said contract she, as one of the contracting parties, ceases to 
be a party as soon as the contract is consummated, being 
swallowed up in the other party, forever losing her identity. 
The screaming farce in this would-be contract being the re- 
quirement that she do all this in absolute ignorance of what 
is implied in the obligations forced upon her. Before she is 
allowed the blessed privilege of staking her life, with an even 
chance of losing it, that she may have an offspring, she is 
compelled to put herself under bond to love and serve a man 
for life whose very presence may be repulsive in a single day. 
If the world only knew how many thousand wives look back 
upon the bridal chamber as the door to a living tomb, it 
would more fully understand the causes of haggard faces, 
emaciated forms and broken down constitutions. 

Prematurely old faces on children’s shoulders, fits of 
melancholy, and a thousand idiosyncrasies are but the results 


296 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


of mothers trying to place the woman and all her affections 
in the rear of and subject to her marriage obligations. 

Can society, can civilization, standing out as it does 
to-day in all the electric brightness of the nineteenth century, 
give one good reason for saying that unless a woman is will- 
ing to put her entire life in jeopardy she shall have the foun- 
tains of her affections forever sealed up and the privilege of 
blessing the world and being blessed with an offspring forever 
denied? 

Upon what theory does society claim the right of cen- 
sorship over the lives and hearts of its individual members? 
Solely on the ground of good morals, virtue and chastity. Is 
a mother any the less virtuous, pure minded, chaste or moral 
by reason of the fact that she has not taken upon herself an 
obligation to do what she has no knowledge of her power or 
ability to do, love, honor and obey for life? Such a theory 
can no more be justified upon any rational view of life than 
can be justified the sacrifices of whole hecatombs of bleeding 
hearts upon the hateful altars of Moloch. 

Society and the law may hold up their hands in holy 
horror, the doctrinaire of creeds set his face hard against the 
sharp and bristling facts, but the under-tow has set in and is 
fast carrying men and women far out on the billowy and 
peaceful waves of life’s dreamy ocean, safe beyond the shal- 
lows and miseries of marriage conventionalities. 

Society is a mumping sham, and is every day butchering 
its countless thousands of victims for a more hideous purpose 
than the slaughtering of gladiators to make a Roman holiday. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


297 


Its hollow vows are falser than Dicer’s oaths. What 
the good of a vow that at best can only bind men and women 
3 to the broken fragments of the dead past? Is strong friend- 
ship and abiding love the result of a vow? No, no, a thou- 
sand times no. Is a waning friendship or a cooling love 
fanned into a newness of life by a vow? No, rather increased 
hate and loathing. Does a man leave his father and mother 
and cleave unto his wife because he has vowed to do so? 
No, it is because the essence of his being goes out in search 
of the counterpart of his nature, and when he has found it, 

? ! or thinks he has, the fear of losing it suggests the security 
for life. Hence the vow. If that counterpart sickens, fades, 
is dwarfed, is outgrown, is society the better for having the 
two so joined together that they act as the blades of a pair 
of shears, clipping and mutilating everything that comes be- 
tween them? 

Open the sealed history of eighteen hundred years of 
married misery and let the tongueless skeletons of every 
marriage closet tell their tales of woe, and society with all its 
pride and pomp will skulk and hide in pitiless gloom. 

Modern society has grown into a hideous monster! 
engaged, principally, in driving into hopeless ruin the 
1 handsomest, and most attractive, and affectionate women, 
while pandering to the cold-blooded brutality of their de- 
stroyers. It embitters the lives of women, and leadsmen 
into the paths of dishonor and crime. Its commands and pre- 
cepts are all summed up in “ hate your neighbor and love 
; your neighbor’s wife.” It delights in practicing the art of 


298 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


deception. It is the completion and rounding out of the 
character of the smiling, damned villain. Its teachings are, 
“bear welcome in the eye; the hand, the tongue, be like the 
innocent flower ” in your neighbor’s parlor, that you may be # 
the thorn and serpent under his pillow. It is the art of be- 
smirching your neighbor’s character with polished infamy, 
that will reflect credit upon your own. It is the insatiate 
god to whom we sacrifice our hearts for those we would not 
wish to love, that we make a charnel house of dead memo- 
ries in which we entertain our friends and brood over our 
losses. It is the abandoning the perfect feast on the mount- 
ain, that we may batten on carion on the moor. It is the 
outgrowth of marriage, and its last end and aim is the rear- 
ing of victims that are to furnish the up-shot, ground-plan, 
and superstructure of its rotten, soul-destroying and mil- 
dewed infamy. How long, O how long will this public gal- 
lery in which we hide our best selves from our friends, that 
we may not disclose our worst selves to those we hate, de- 
spise and envy, continue to hold sway over the minds and 
hearts of men and women ? 

Take heart and hope, all ye lovers of liberty — not liberty 
to shout, and scream, and flaunt flaming banners, not liberty 
of speech, not liberty of the press, not liberty of franchise 
— but liberty that unshackles the soul, and mind, and heart 
of right-thinking men and women ; for that band of noble 
women who have felt the galling chains of slavery, have 
builded wiser than they knew. They struggled for an op- 
portunity to assert their individuality, they tired of living 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


299 


simply a nameless entity, swallowed up in a man’s life, and 
now they will be compelled to accept the responsibilities of 
their victories. They taught the world the Alpha of this 
advancing civilization, and they dare not refrain from lisping 
the Beta. 

Women are fast being recognized as possessed of an in- 
dividuality peculiarly their own, and the inevitable will surely 
follow. They must accept the responsibility of this enlarged 
life in which copartnership will be of their own selection, 
and for as long a time as it may be congenial to them. 

If a woman is the architect of her own fortune, she is 
not in need of a figure-head to maintain it. If she wants an 
heir, she will not be compelled to enter into a contract to do 
some impossible thing and continue for life to live a burning 
lie to obtain the desire of her heart. She will not be com- 
pelled to accept some half dozen or more children because a 
man’s lust and passion forces them upon her. She will not 
have the “ family,” that is, the accidental umbilical cord that 
binds her to the nursery for life, to hold her in fetters and 
waste her life in a round of anxiety and toil, superinduced 
by being compelled by society to live with a man for life, 
simply because it would not be 1 ‘correct form ” to do other- 
wise. 

When the reason for the existence of a law is a dead- 
letter on nature’s statute book, then it is time that it be 
repealed. The marriage relation assumes that the sole use 
that man and the world have for a woman is, that she be a 
mother, and that her life be devoted to the taking care of a 


300 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


family. That the only success of her life is to be estimated 
by the number of living issues that grow out of her marriage 
relation. To a man of common sense and common decency, 
who will reflect for a moment, nothing can be more absurd ; 
to a woman of brains, energy, and a mental sky, nothing can 
be more soul-destroying. 

No man believes that he is ever better by beirg a hypo- 
crite and a falsifier to himself. No man can shape his course 
by newly-risen laws and imperative changes and still be lip- 
loyal to what once was true, and long continue to smuggle 
new meanings under old names without losing self-respect. 
By the constant and habitual disregard of existing laws — 
which are not recognized as having any binding force upon 
the conscience — men become the willing instruments in 
the hands of unholy passions to break through and trample 
under foot any and all wholesome regulations that may 
stand between them and their desires. That is, the habit 
of breaking bad laws makes men lawless. 

Society holds itself out to be a machine, with the quality 
of perpetual motion, that can get out more energy and force 
than has been put in to propel it. It is intended to be the 
panacea for all our woes, it is intended to be the nucleus of 
home, to build up family altars, to bind together natures 
that have nothing in common, to make a man of no heart, 
no soul, no decency, no sense of honor, no character, no 
sense of common honesty, no appreciation of the beautiful, 
a common liar of low and debasing tendencies, a common 
drunkard, a common fornicator, lecherous, a blasphemer, the 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


301 


sum total of all villainies ; the partner, and head and front of 
some woman all soul, heart, truth, purity, goodness, honor, 
loveliness, a lover of the beautiful, a worshiper at the shrine 
of all that lifts, that humbles, sweetens and consoles. That 
such a brute can monopolize such a woman, and that, too, 
under the sanction of law, is a burning shame, a most noted 
and infamous blot upon the fair name and character of the 
boasted civilization of the nineteenth century. 

To intimate that one does not believe in or indorse the 
theory of the marriage relation as being of divine origin, or 
that it is not the sum total of all that is pure and good in the 
world, is to pull down on one’s head all the viols of stored 
wrath which society has carefully selected and judicially com- 
pounded and labeled as “ God sanctioned.” To be given in 
heroic doses to any who dares question this sacred and 
ancient sacrament, a sacrament among the strict construc- 
tionists, a civil contract(?) among the more enlightened. 

If a man and a woman, after having studied their na- 
tures, temperaments, blood lines, tendencies to beget healthful 
and brainy qualities, with the view to transmit them to an 
offspring, should have the hardihood to carry out their views 
without first entering into a contract to forever maintain a 
relation of inseparableness, they would be slandered, traduced, 
maligned and branded as crimnals, free-lovers, debauched, 
lecherous, unclean, and in fact subjected to all the persecu- 
tions that blind intolerance and ignorance could inflict upon 
them. 

A thousand adulterers and breakers of marriage vows 


302 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


would rise up to condemn the offenders, pulpit and prudery 
would alike utter their solemn invocations and warnings, and 
anathematize them and close and bolt the doors of the church 
and society against such uncleanness. Some married matron, 
who, in her state of single blessedness, had committed a 
thousand irregularities without being caught, who had been 
relieved of that which might have proved an unpleasant 
issue but for the aid of some experienced mid-wife or some 
not over-scruplous physician, would be loudest in her de- 
nunication. The nasty-nice would let loose their wash of 
words, and even self-convicted lewdness would furnish its 
elegant Billingsgate to prove that it was not marriage, and 
therefore worse. 

The greatest of English historians observed, ‘‘ From the 
day on which the emancipation of our literature was accom- 
plished the purification of our literature began.” The day 
on which woman is emancipated from the slavery of passion, 
legalized, that day the liberty of woman will be complete. 
That the marriage relation is of divine origin, or received the 
sanction of the second person of the Trinity, is no argument 
in justification of the miseries engendered and daily and 
hourly increasing under its sanction. As well might we jus- 
tify the plunderings of the robber-kings and bandit barons, 
who for ages pillaged the world that they might get possession 
of the reputed burial place of Him who said, “ Whatsoever ye 
would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” 
As well might we justify the crimes of the inquisition for hav- 
ing been done in God’s name. 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


303 


[ Would you put woman on that high pedestal where she 
will always be courted, where she will ever be treated with 
the respect due her keener sensibilities and refined tastes, 
habits and emotions? Would you make her a mother for the 
pure love of being a mother, that she might have an heir of 
whom she could be proud, might have as many children as 
in her judgment she could care and provide for, and educate, 
physically, morally, intellectually and socially ? Would you 
make her the proper guardian of her children, as nature in- 
,f j tended she should be? Would you concede the logical 
sequence of the proposition that she is an entity, that she is 
an individual, that she is a citizen, that she ought to have a 
representation in her own proper person at the polls, that 
she has the power to acquire and hold property and enjoy 
property rights, that she shall for all time be the sole and 
exclusive owner, and that by reason of all these recognized 
facts she is mistress of her own actions, and can say who 
shall be the heir of her body without let or hinderance, with- 
out the jeopardizing her future by a union for life? Would 
you take away that assumed ownership that man has exer- 

, cised over her for centuries? Then take away that contract, 

a 

that living lie of marriage conventionality. Place her where 
she belongs, out of reach of his ownership, where she may at 
i any moment turn from his brutality, filth and nastiness, 
where she may at any moment walk out into the free air and 
sunlight of her own better nature, and she will always be 
beautiful with danger’s sweetness round her. 

No man ever exhibits the rottenness of his nature to the 


304 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


woman he courts, no man puts his true inwardness of nasti- 
ness before the woman he seeks to please, no man is profane 
where he desires to be loved. But place him in the position 
of owner and he will proceed to make an exhibition of him- 
self and his vileness in the presence of an angel. 

Take away his right of ownership, and his power to de- 
stroy the good name of woman will be gone. The aquiline 
beak that hawks at and tears that which it can not own, is 
but the fruit of eighteen hundred years of possession. As 
the lion’s fierceness grows by what it is fed on, as the eagle’s 
eye and beak and talons have been developed and perfected 
by the need of such eyes and marked peculiarities, so man’s 
desire for ownership and control are but the outgrowth of 
ages and generations of brutish power and gratification, 
brought about by that more brutal and debasing law of 
society, called “ marriage.” 

It is not often that a man so soon reaps the whirlwind 
after he has sown the wind. Judge Bullion’s own unhappi- 
ness and wreck were directly traceable to the doctrine he 
wished to see promulgated. He was the victim of his own 
lusts and passions. Instead of being a victim of the law of 
marriage, he was caught in the toils of the law which nature 
has thrown around the ideal home. 

Men sin against the inevitable of their environments, 
entail misery upon their offspring, and then seek to justify 
their transgressions by tirades against wholesome laws. 

No better example of this fact could be furnished than 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


305 


the fruits of his ripened theory which he left his children at 
his death. 

If Judge Bullion had adopted as the rule of his married 
life another sentiment written by the same hand that intro- 
duces his argument, he would have been happy in his life 
and honored in his death. 

The soul that seems to be ethereal fire often leads a 
loving heart astray. It is impossible to make each meal a 
sacrament, and it is equally as true that the love-lit glory 
of poetry and song does not always surround the fireside of 
every home. 

Under the existing laws and the facilities with which 
separations can be obtained, and the apparent ease with 
which thousands of men and women wear their marital obli- 
gations, the once Best is fast becoming the Worst. 

The duties that men and women owe to their children, 
to society and the State are such as to call not only for devo- 
tion to each other, but uncomplaining and heroic suffering 
and endurance. 

Those who come up through many tribulations are 
| worthy of much praise. 

“ To suffer woes which hope thinks infinite; 

To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; 

To defy powers which seem omnipotent; 

To love and bear; to hope till hope creates 
From its own wreck the thing it contemplates; 

Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent; 

This like thy glory, Titan, is to be 

Good, great, and joyous, beautiful and free; 

This is alone Life, Joy, Empire and Victory.” 


306 


VICTIMS OF MARRIAGE 


When life, joy, empire and victory of the social relation 
is willing to pay such a price, the younger Titan of the elder 
brood will be good, great and joyous, beautiful and free. 

The family is the holiest creation of a loving God, 
children the brightest and purest links that ever bound to- 
gether the hearts of the honorable and noble husband and 
the true and loving wife, 

Ashton and Julia had grown up together and their love 
was strong and fervent, no doubt, but they were strangers to 
that divine emotion that sometimes comes to great souls — 
“born of a moment yet born of eternity * * * * * 

unquestioning, unthinking, investigating nothing, proving 
nothing, sufficient unto itself,” and while their disappointment 
was keen, they bore it with heroic fortitude and patience. 

Henceforth they must stand without the gate whose 
golden bars illuminated love’s paradise beyond. But who is 
wise enough to tell us that their contemplation of the ideal, 
forever barred against satiety, does not more than outweigh 
all the joys and pleasures that have ever been pressed by 
loving hands from the ripened fruit of love plucked from the 
thorny stems that grows hard-by life’s rugged pathway? 


THE END. 











PRESS POINTS. 


* 


“Victims of Marriage” is the title of a novel just issued by a Colum 
bus author. 

The story is of intense interest from beginning to end, the character 
are real men and women, and strongly portrayed. 

Judge Bullion’s advocacy of woman’s absolute freedom from tlv 
restraints of the marriage relation is given in the closing chapter and is 
bold and startling argument that will be met by fierce and bitte 
denunciations, deservedly. — Ohio State Journal. 


The work reflects credit upon the author. 

The story is not a gem in water colors, but rather a bold crayoi 
sketch. 

The author is frankness personified. On the whole “ Victims of Mar 
riage ” may be truthfully said to be a stirring story presenting a forcibl 
picture of the side of life that it has not been the habit of writers to dis 
cuss. It has a lesson for the degraded and it has another for those t< 
whom vice is a stranger. 

We may hope that this will not be the last literary effort of th 
author. — Sunday News. 

The reading public ought to be acquainted with the fact that th 
author is a bachelor in order that a fair estimate of at least the philo 
sophical disquisitions with which the book is loaded might be weighe< 
and judged. 

He calls a spade a spade, and is as frank as Count Tolstoi. 

The plot is very ingeniously manufactured from the private papers o 
the late Judge Bullion. 

The book is worth reading, and there are some new ideas which wil 
not, it is to be hoped, be lost. — Sunday Capitol ( Columbus , O. ) > 


The author has plenty of ideas and is a firm believer in his own views 
which he defends with the vigor and close logic of the lawyer. Many o 
the sketches and incidents are true as life itself — far truer than peopl 
generally will believe. The author’s peculiar views on many subject 
make interesting reading. — Columbus Dispatch. 


4 


A most remarkable book! 

The author credits to the operations of the marriage relation all th< 
woes that fall to the lot of married women. The style is a peculiar one 
As concise and abrupt as Victor Hugo, in dialogue as diffuse as a village 
gossip, in the philosophical parts highly rhetorical .— Sunday World. 


I 













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